OP  THE 

Theological    Seminary, 

PRINCETON,    N.  J. 

BV    421 1     .P6    1873 

Potter,    Thomas    Joseph,    1828 

1873. 

Sacred   eloquence,    or,    The 
J., 1    J.  J  - ^    -^ 

SACRKD  p:loquenoe. 


OR,  THE 


iluorj  and  Inutiq  of  |r^arhinjg 


/ 

By  Rev.  THOMAS  j;  POTTER, 

Professor  op  Sacred  Eloquence  ly  the  Foreign  Musionabt 
College  op  All  Hallows. 


■  Hrseciicate  Evangelium  omni  creaturse." 

Marc.  ivl. 

"  M\mdus  sum  a  sanguine  omniam ;  nos  enim  subterfugi  guominusannuntiSMte 
omne  consilium  Dei  vobis." 

ACT-   APOST.  zx 


Third  Edition^ 

cakeftllt  revised  and  bnlakged. 


TROY,  N.  Y. : 
p.  J.  DOOLEY,  PUBLISHER. 

182  AJJD  27-2  RiVEK  STRBBT, 

1873. 


CONTEI^TS. 


Page. 

Preface  9 

CHAPTER   I. 

Introduction 19 

CHAPTER   II. 

Kecessitt  and  Obligation  of  Diligent  Preparation SO 

CHAPTER   III. 

Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching 39 

Section  I.— Style 39 

II. — A  Judicious  Course  of  Reading 45 

III. — A  Collection  of  Useful  and  Striking  Matter 60 

IV. — The  Practice  of  Composition fiG 

CHAPTER  IT. 

Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching 76 

Section  I. — The  Choice  of  a  Subject 7(j 

II. — The  Meditation  and  Conception  of  our  Subject..  80 
III. — The  Arrangement  of  our  Matter  by  means  of  the 

Plan  of  our  Discourse -. 87 

lY.— Unity 91 

CHAPTER  V. 

Five  Principal  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse 106 


6  Contents. 

CHAPTER  Yl. 

Page. 

The  Proper  Time  in  which  to  "Write r24 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Introduction  of  the  Discourse 131 

Section  I.— Text 132 

II. — Exordium  strictly  so  called, — Examples 134 

III. — Proposition,  its  Ifature  and  Object — Division,  its 
Advantages,     Disadvantages,     and    Principal 

Rules 163 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Body  of  the  Discourse  —  Instruction,  Argumentation, 

Refutation,  Special  Application 17.5 

Section  I. — Instruction — Its  Obligation,  Ifecessity,  and  jSTa- 

ture , 175 

II. — Explanation  of  the  Christian  Doctrine.  Clearness 
the  Essential  Quality  of  Instruction — Means  of 
securing  it.  Special  Adaptation  of  the  Subject 
to  the  Audience.  Rules  for  the  Use  of  "Words 
and  the  Construction  of  Strong  and  Harmonious 

Sentences IHH 

III. — The  Manner  of  Proving  the  Chiistian  Doctrine..     213 

IV. — Selection  of  Arguments 215 

V. — Arrangement  of  Arguments,  Transition 221 

VI. — Amplification  of  Arguments,  its  N"ature  and  !N"e- 
cessity.  Sources  of  Amplifica,tion  : — Sacred 
Scripture  ;  the  Fathers  ;  Theology,  Scholastic 
and  Ascetic  ;  Comparisons,  Examples  ana  Pa- 
rables ;  Reason,  Examples 232 

VII.— Refutation 262 

VIII. — Special  Application  of  the  Subject  to  all  Classes 
of  our  hearers ;  or.  Amplification  of  Arguments 
drawn  from  Practical  Conclusions  in  re  morali. 
Extremes  to  be  avoided 273 


,  Contents.  7 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Page. 

TiiK  Pathetic  Part — Persuasion,  Appeal  to   the   Pas- 
sions, Peroration 2«2 

Section  I. — Persuasion — lis  Mature  and  Ifecessity 'i^f'2 

II. — Appeal  to  the  Passions 280 

III. — Certain  Conditions  which  are  reqiiii-ed  iu  him  who 

appeals  to  the  Passions 305 

IV. — The  Order  to  be  observed  in  appealing  to  the 

Pas^ons oiO 

V. — The  Peroration ;  or,  Conclusion  of  the  Discourse, 

Examples 327 

CHAPTER  X. 

Final  Preparation 339 

.Section  I. — Careful  Revision  of  the  "Written  Discourse 339 

II. — I^ecessity  and  Manner  of  committing  the   Dis- 
course to  Memory 344 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Style  of  the  Pulpit 357 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


jHILST  I  venture  to  hope  that  it  will  not  be 
found  less  serviceable  or  less  interesting  to 
the  clergy  in  general,  I  think  it  right  and 
just  to  state  distinctly  in  this  place,  that  this 
work  has  been  compiled  primarily  with  a  view  to  the  use 
of  the  class  of  Sacred  Eloquence  in  our  Foreign  Mis- 
sionary College  of  All  Hallows.  During  the  period  in 
which  I  have  had  charge  of  this  department,  my  pupils 
and  I  have  suffered,  not  only  great  inconvenience,  but 
loss  of  time,  from  want  of  some  work  which,  written  in 
the  English  Language,  and,  embodying  in  a  clear, 
simple,  and,  above  all,  practical  manner,  the  leading 
principles  of  Sacred  Eloquence  as  laid  down  by  those 
who  must  necessarily  be  the  guides  of  the  Ecclesiastic 
in  this  matter,  might  serve  the  student  as  a  Text-book 
during  his  college  course,  and  as  a  Avork  of  reference 
during  those  future  years  in  which  he  was  to  be  actively 
engaged  in  the  preaching  o£  the  Divine  Word.  I  have 
waited  patiently  in  the  hope  that  some  one  better  quali- 
fied, or  some  one  who  felt  more  confidence  in  his  ability 
for  the  task,  would  undertake  it.  Having  waited  in 
vain,  I  have  at  length,  after  much  hesitation  and  anxious 


10  Preface. 

thought,  ventured  to  compile  the  Treatise  which  is  here 
presented  to  the  public. 

These  remarks  will  at  once  serve  to  explain  any  quali- 
fications which  I  may  appear  to  claim  in  undertaking 
it,  as  also  what  may  perhaps  strike  the  reader  as  the 
leading  characteristics  of  the  work  itself. 

I  can  say,  with  perfect  sincerity,  that  I  claim  no  pecu- 
liar aptitude  for  the  task  which  I  have  aspired  to  per- 
form, beyond  what  may  arise  from  the  fact  that  1  have 
been  actively  engaged  in  teaching  this  matter  for  nearly 
ten  years ;  that  I  have  compiled  the  work  from  the  most 
approved  sources  within  my  reach ;  and  that  I  have 
laboured,  to  the  utmost  of  my  knowledge  and  of  my 
ability,  to  render  it  as  perfect  and  as  practically  useful 
as  might  be  possible.  If  I  could  not  claim  thus  much 
for  myself  it  would  be  great  presumption  on  my  part  to 
appear  before  those  to  whom  this  work  is  offered.  More 
than  this  I  do  not  claim,  unless,  perhaps,  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  add  that  I  have  brought  out  this  work  because 
I  have  been  assured  by  those,  whose  opinion  I  naturally 
value  most  highly,  that  there  is  a  necessity  for  it;  and 
because,  so  far  as  I  know,  there  is  no  work  in  the  English 
language  which  can  be  put  into  the  hands  of  the  Eccle- 
siastical student,  or  which  will  serve  the  Clergyman,  as 
a  manual  of  preaching — as  a  guide  to  the  becoming  dis- 
charge of  what  is  one  of  the  most  important,  as  it  is  one 
of  the  most  holy  and  sublime,  of  his  duties. 

I  believe,  as  I  hope,  that  the  verdict  of  my  readers 
will  assign  to  this  work  th«  quality  of  simplicity  as  its 
characteristic.  In  view  of  the  special  object  which  was 
before  me,  I  have,  in  the  compilation  of  this  Treatise, 
aimed  at  the  greatest  simplicity,  as  well  of  conception 


Preface.  11 

as  of  expression,  -whicli  was  compatible  with  the  proper 
treatment  of  my  subject.  Whilst  1  have  avoided  as 
much  as  possible  what  I  may  call  the  purely  Rhetorical 
aspect  of  that  subject,  I  have  been  obliged  in  some 
places  to  enter  into  questions  which,  at  first  sight,  may 
seem  somewhat  technical  and  scholastic.  Possibly,  I 
may  appear  to  have  treated  some  of  these  matters  too 
much  in  detail.  I  venture  to  hope  that  I  shall  be  found, 
on  the  one  hand,  to  have  entered  into  no  question  whicli 
is  not  thoroughly  and  practically  useful ;  Avhilst,  on  tlie 
other,  my  purpose  has  continually  been  to  aim  mucli 
more  at  throwing  out  substantial  ideas,  and  at  suggest- 
ing leading  thoughts,  than  at  tlieir  minute  development. 
I  took  it  for  granted  that,  as  regards  my  pupils,  some- 
thing was  to  be  left  to  my  own  oral  explanations  in 
class;  whilst  I  knew  well  that  the  experience  of  my 
l)rethren  who  are  engaged  in  the  preaching  of  the  Divine 
Word — an  experience  so  much  greater  than  mine  can 
pretend  to  be — would  more  than  supply,  so  far  as  they 
are  concerned,  for  any  deficiency  in  my  work,  if  such 
there  be,  in  the  way  of  laboured  and  diffuse  working  out 
of  the  general  principles  laid  down. 

When  such  great  masters  as  St.  Augustine,  St.  Charles 
Borromeo,  St.  Francis  of  Sales^  and  a  host  of  others, 
have  treated  this  subject,  I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  make 
no  pretention  of  having  advanced  any  new  or  original 
views  in  this  work.  I  have  merely  aimed  at  presenting 
those  principles,  which  are  as  old  as  the  illustrious  au- 
thors quoted,  in  a  more  simple  and  familiar  manner; 
and  with  such  an  adaption  of  general  principles  to  pecu- 
liar circumstances  as  must  become  necessary  in  course 
of  time,  and  with  such  a  modification  as  becomes  no 


13  Preface. 

less  necessary  when  those  general  principles  have  to  be 
applied,  not  only  to  those  to  whom  they  were  originally 
and  specially  addressed,  but  to  the  instruction  and  sane- 
tification  of  others  who  diflfer  from  them  in  habits  and 
in  sympathies,  in  education  and  in  passions,  in  country 
and  in  race.  In  treating  this  subject  I  have  kept  the 
maxim,  Non  nova,  sed  nove,  ever  before  my  mind. 

I  think  it  only  remains  for  me  to  acknowledge  the 
sources  whence  I  have  derived  the  matter  for  this  work, 
and  to  return  my  thanks  where  they  are  due.  Without 
farther  reference  to  the  standard  authors  whose  names 
will  be  found  mentioned  in  the  work  itself,  my  grateful 
thanks  are  especially  due  to  the  venerable  Cure  of 
8.  Sulpice,  M.  Hamon,  who,  in  the  most  generous  and 
unqualified  manner,  placed  his  valuable  Traite  de  la 
Predication  at  my  disposal,  and  to  the  Very  Eev.  J.  H. 
Newman,  D.  D.,  who  no  less  kindly  allowed  me  to  make 
copious  extracts  from  his  writings. 

With  these  brief  remarks  I  submit  my  work  with 
confidence  to  the  friendly  criticism  and  the  generous 
forbearance  of  those  for  whom  it  has  been  compiled.  I 
only  beg  of  them  to  forget  the  imperfections  which, 
doubtless,  they  will  discover  in  its  pages,  in  the  remem- 
brance of  the  earnest  sincerity  with  which  I  have  aspired 
and  striven  to  be  of  some  small  service  to  those  who 
are  my  brethren  in  the  Holy  Catholic  Faith,  fellow- 
labourers  with  me  in  the  sublime  ministry  of  the  Church 
of  God.  T.  J.  P. 


OPINIONS  OF  DISTINGUISHED  ECCLESIASTICS, 
&c.,  &c. 


The  following  are  selected  from  many  kind  and  flattering  notices  of  his  work 
with  which  the  author  has  been  honored: 

"  My  Dear  Mr.  Potter — I  wish  to  thank  you  for  the  copy  of 
your  excellent  work  which  you  have  been  so  kind  as  to  send  me. 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  have  succeeded  in  treating  the  subject  of 
Sacred  Eloquence  in  a  manner  worthy  of  its  importance.  This  was 
to  be  expected  from  the  wise  rule  which  you  laid  down  for  your 
guidance — not  to  depart  in  anything  from  the  principles  which  the 
Fathers  have  held  concerning  the  true  method  of  Gospel  preaching. 
In  addition  to  this,  the  judicious  arrangement  you  have  made  of  the 
matter,  the  accuracy  with  which  you  treat  of  practical  details,  too 
often  overlooked  in  works  of  this  kind,  and  the  spirit  of  piety  which 
pervades  the  whole,  will,  I  am  confident,  render  your  book  of  signal 
service  to  all  who  are  preparing  for,  or  engaged  in,  the  preaching  of 
the  Word  of  God. 

"  Wishing  you  every  blessing,  I  remain,  my  dear  Mr.  Potter,  your 
obedient  servant, 

>J<  PAUL  CAKDINAL  CULLEJ^." 


Rev.  and  Dear  Sir — I  beg  to  thank  you  for  your  excellent  book 
on  Sacred  Eloquence,  which,  I  hope,  will  be  of  much  use  to  our 
students  for  the  Priesthood.  ISTo  part  of  it  will  be  more  useful  than 
that  in  which  you  repress  the  ambition  of  being  eloquent.  It  has 
been  well  said  that  '  Men  forget  that  eloquence  resides  essentially 
in  the  thought,  and  that  no  language  will  render  eloquent  that 
■which  is  not  so  in  the  simplest  words  which  will  convey  the  mean- 
ing.' St.  Charles  enjoins  a  'Simplex  et  virilis  oratio'  which  seems 
to  me  to  be  the  true  source  of  power  over  the  reason  and  hearts 
of  men. 

I  trust  your  labours  will  promote  this,  and  that  every  blessing 
will  be  with  you. 

BeUeve  me,  Rev.  and  dear  Sir,  your  faithful  servant, 
k^  HENRY  EDWARD, 

Archbishop  of  Westminster. 


14    Opijstions  of  Distinguished  Ecclesiastics. 

The  Lord  Biihoi)  of  Beverley. 
*****!  have  delayed  my  acknowledgmeuts  aud 
warm  thanks  for  your  book  that  I  might  make  some  acquaintance 
Tvith  its  contents.  What  I  have  seen  only  proves  to  me  how  cor- 
rectly I  measured  your  powers  when,  months  ago,  I  expressed  my 
conviction  that  you  were  equal  to  the  lask  you  had  thought  of  un- 
dertaking, and,  that,  you  would  succeed  if  you  undertook  it.  I 
earnestly  hope  that  your  very  elegant  volume  will  be  found,  as  it 
deserves  to  be,  in  every  College,  and  on  every  Priest's  table.  I 
shall  be  most  happy  to  do  everything  in  my  power  to  promote  its 
dilfasion.     *     *     *     * 


The  Lord  Bishop  of  Kerry. 
*****!  have  been  through  a  great  deal  of  your 
book,  and  I  think  it  very  sensible  and  very  useful.  Its  utility  will 
be  greatly  felt  in  the  training  of  clerical  youth.  They  will  get  cor- 
rect n(jti(ms  from  it,  and,  both  in  judgment  aud  taste,  they  will  be 
started  in  the  right  direction  The  great  success  which,  as  a  body, 
has  attended  the  All  Hallows'  Missiouers  in  the  art  of  preaching, 
ought  to  encourage  you  to  persevere  in  your  eflbrts.  *  *  *  * 
Insist  upon  the  constant  use  of  the  pen.  You  cannot  think  what  a 
difierence  it  will  make  in  the  whole  after  career  of  your  pupils.     *     * 


The  Lord  Bishop  of  Liverpool. 
*****  The  Bishop  thinks  the  publication  of  such  a 
work  most  timely,  and  he  welcomes  its  appearance  with  great  pleas- 
ure. He  has  often  feared  that  in  the  multiplicity  of  duties  which 
now  press  so  heavily  upon  Uie  clergy,  the  duty  of  preaching,  or, 
rather,  of  suitable  preparation  for  preaching  may  be  neglected.  He 
trusts  that  your  work  may  induce  many  to  look  upon  it  as  an  art 
which  must  be  learned  like  any  other  art,  and  to  feel  that  it  is  only 
by  a  careful  study  of  those  principles  which  have  been  accepted  by 
all  Masters  of  Sacred  Eloquence,  that  any  degree  of  excellence  may 
be  attained.  By  publishing  the  lectures  given  in  your  College  yo* 
have  increased  the  sphere  of  your  iufluence,  and  made  the  clergy  in 
a  manner  your  scholars.  *****  The  Bishop  prays  that 
God  may  long  give  you  health  aud  strength  to  continue  your  valua- 
ble labours  iu  the  education  of  the  clergy.     *     *     * 


The  Lord  Bishop  of  Kilmore. 
*    *     *     *     *  ^  Your  book  on  Sacred  Eloquence  supplies  a 
want  long  felt,  and  will,  I  am  satisfied,  be  of  the  greatest  advantage 


Opinions  of  Distinguished  Ecclesiastics.    15 

to  all  who  desire  to  preach  the  truths  of  onr  holy  religion  in  a  man- 
ner worthj''  of  its  author,  and  calcuhited  to  produce  fruit  amongst 
the  faithful,    *     *     ♦- 


The  Hector  of  the  Catholic  U)iivcrsiti/  of  IrelamJ. 
#  #  *  #  #  Permit  me  to  thank  3'ou  for  your  beautiful 
■work  on  the  "  Theory  and  Practice  of  Preaching."  *  *  *  *  j 
have  seen  enough  of  it  to  convince  me  not  only  of  its  beauty,  but 
still  more  of  its  usefulness.  I  have  heard  more  than  once  from 
Prelates,  to  whom  we  have  sent  Priests  from  All  Hallows,  of  the 
fniits  of  your  teaching  in  our  College  Class  of  Sacred  Eloquence. 
Your  book  will,  through  God's  blessing,  increase  and  perpetuate 
these  fmits.  *  *  »  i  believe  it  was  I  who  presented  you  to  the 
Bishop  on  the  day  when  the  words  were  addressed  to  you :  Fato 
verbi  Dei  relator :  and,  since  you  have  so  well  fulfilled,  in  this  work, 
the  condition  expressed  in  the  following  words,  I  trust  you  will  also 
have  an  abundant  share  in  the  blessing :  hahiturus  si  fideliter  et 
ntiUter  officium  tuum  impleveris,  partem  cum  cis,  qui  verhum  Dei 
bene  administraverunt  ab  initio.     *     *     * 


The  Very  Rev.  J.  H.  Newman,  D.D.,  the  Oratory,  Birmingham. 
*****!  thank  3'ou  very  much  for  your  volume.  It 
is  full  of  interesting  matter,  and  I  hope  it  will  have  the  circulation 
and  bear  the  fruit  which  it  merits.  *  *  You  have  done  me  a 
gi'eat  honour  in  quoting  from  my  University  publications.     *     »     » 


The  President  of  Maynooth. 
»    #    #     #    #    Your  book  is  just  what  was  wanted,  and  I 
shall  gladly  do  all  in  my  power  to  make  it  known.     *     *     * 


The  President  of  St.  Cuthbert's,   Ushaw. 
*****    Your  work  is  most  likely  to  be  of  much  bene- 
fit to  Ecclesiastics,  and  I  shall  have  much  pleasure  in  recommend- 
ing it  to  my  friends.    ***** 


The  President  of  St.  Mary's,  Oscott. 

#    #    #    *    *    J  iianded  your  work  ou  Sacred  Eloquence  to 

one  of  our  Professors  who  was  just  then  giving  a  course  of  Lectures 

on  the  same  subject.     He  has  spoken  so  highly  of  it  to  his  Pupils  that 

they  have  requested  me  to  procure  copies  of  it  for  their  use.     *     *     * 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 


*****  The  Clerical  body  in  these  countries  has  rea- 
son to  feel  grateful  to  the  Author  of  this  work.  •  »  »  *  Tj^e 
leading  principles  of  Sacred  Eloquence  are  therein  set  forth  in  a 
clear,  simple,  and  practical  manner  by  one  who,  for  ten  years,  has 
been  actively  engaged  in  teaching  this  matter.  *  *  *  *  The 
rules  which  make  up  the  method  ai'e  simple  and  yet  full,  accurate 
and  yet  not  too  technical,  practical  without  ceasing  to  be  parts  of  a 
well  adjusted  theory.  •  »  *  «  Tlie  whole  is  seasoned  with  a 
spirit  of  reverent  piety,  which  cannot  fail  to  impress  the  preacher 
with  a  lofty  idea  of  the  dignity  of  the  calling  which  makes  him  the 
minister  of  Christ  and  the  dispenser  of  the  mysteries  of  God." — The 
Irish  Ecclesiastical  Record,  conducted  under  Episcopal  Sanction. 

"Our  readers  will  not  agree,  as  we  do  not  agree,  in  all  Mr.  Pot- 
ter's views ;  but  they  will  find  in  his  pages  food  for  reflection,  well 
cooked,  if  we  majr  follow  out  the  simile,  although  not  palatable  to 
many  persons  who,  conceiving  themselves  born  geniuses,  decline  to 
be  fettered  by  any  rules  but  their  own,  and  who  consequently  con- 
tinually distress  the  ear,  and  otfend  the  taste  both  of  the  educated 
who  know  what  is  good,  and  of  the  ignorant  who  very  often  have  a 
true  instinct  as  to  the  merits  of  a  preacher." — Church  Times. 

""We  commend  Mr.  Potter's  work  as  one  which  may  be  of  great 
service  in  setting  a  good  standard  of  Sacred  Eloquence  before  aspir- 
ants. The  subject  is  well  treated,  and  his  work  will  be  equally  use- 
ful to  those  already  in  the  ministry." — The  Reader. 

"  The  author  lays  down  the  principles  of  Sacred  Eloquence  in  a 
clear,  simple,  and  practical  manner." — Public  Opinion. 

"  He  has  gone  through  the  subject  completely,  and  produced  an 
admirable  manual." — Month. 

""We  have  been  struck  especially  with  the  practical,  solid,  and 
sensible  character  of  every  part  of  the  volume." — Weekly  Register. 

"He  has  done  his  work  thoroughly  and  well." — Tablet. 

"  From  its  clearness  of  expression,  the  beauty  of  its  language,  and 
the  attractiveness  of  its  style,  cannot  be  too  highly  commended." — 
Nation. 

"  He  has  handled  his  subject  in  such  a  manner  as  to  bring  it  before 
his  readers  with  all  the  charm  of  novelty." — Freeman's  Journal, 


THEOH Y 


Testificor  coram  Deo  et  Jesu  Christo  qui  judieaturus  est  vivos  et 
mortuos,  prsedica  verbum,  insta  opportune,  importune ;  argue,  ob- 
secra,  increpa  in  oinni  patientid  et  doctriua. 

2  Tim.,  iy. 


Curam  auimarum  habentes,  per  se  vel  alios  idoneos,  si  legitime 
iinpediti  fueriut,  diebus  saltern  dominicis  et  festis  solemnibus  plebes 
sibi  commissas,  pro  su^  et  earum  capacitate  pascant  salutaiibus 
verbis.  ...  Si  quis  eorum  praestare  negligat,  per  censuras  eccle- 
siasticas  cogantur. 

Prsecepto  divino  mandatum  est  omnibus  quibus  animarum  cura 
commissa  est,  oves  suas  .  .  .  verbi  divini  praedicatione  .  .  . 
pascere 

CoNCiL.  Trid.  De  Keform. 


SACRED   ELOQUENCE, 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTKODUOTORT. 

IFTER  the  administration  of  the  Holy 
Sacraments,  the  minister  of  the  altar  is 
called  npon  to  discharge  no  duty  more 
sublime  in  itself,  more  conducive  to  the 
glory  of  God,  or  more  useful  to  his  fellow-men,  than 
the  worthy  and  becoming  preaching  of  the  Gospel  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  one  sense,  the  effective 
preaching  of  the  Gospel  may  be  said  to  be  almost  as 
impoilant  as  the  administration  of  the  Sacraments ; 
for,  although  it  is  true  that  the  Sacraments  are  the 
divine  channels  througli  which  His  minister  causes 
the  priceless  blood  of  Christ  to  flow  upon  the  souls 
of  men,  it  is  equally  true  that,  at  least  as  regards 
those  who  stand  most  in  need  of  those  Sacraments, 
preaching  is  the  ordinary  means  by  which  men  are 
brought  under  their  influence.     When  the  poor  peni- 


20  Introductory. 

tent  is  kneeling  at  our  feet  it  is  eiisy  for  us  to  recon- 
cile him  to  his  ofteudecl  Maker  ;  but  the  difficulty  is 
to  bring  him  to  that  point,  and,  as  an  ordinary  rule, 
it  is  only  through  the  agency  of  the  pulpit,  that  the 
terrors  of  God's  judgments,  the  sweetness  of  his  mercy 
and  long-suffering  are  broUglit  to  exercise  their  saving 
influence  upon  the  sinner's  soul.  And  as  there  are 
many  sinners  in  every  flock,  so,  too  are  there  many 
souls  who  are  striving  to  walk  not  merely  in  the  way 
of  God's  Commandments,  but  in  the  path  of  holy  per- 
fection ;  souls  who  are  longing  to  be  tauaht  what  is 
the  holy,  and  the  perfect,  and  the  acceptable  will  of 
God  in  their  regard  ;  holy  souls,  who,  by  the  perfect 
discharge  of  their  ordinary  duties,  are  striving  not 
only  at  vitam  habeant^  but,  also,  id  ohundaiitias  habe- 
ant.  And,  as  it  is  undoubtedly  the  duty  of  the  pastor 
to  do  all  that  lies  in  him  to  snatch  the  wandering 
sheep  of  his  flock  from  the  jaws  of  the  infernal  wolf, 
so,  too,  is  it  no  less  his  duty  to  instruct  the  fervent  and 
simple  souls  who  are  to  be  found  in  every  congrega- 
tion, in  all  those  matters  the  knowledge  of  which  is 
necessaiy  in  order  to  assist  ttiem  in  their  eflbrts  to  at- 
tain the  degree  of  holy  perfection  to  which  God  has 
called  them ;  that  perfection  which  they,  as  persons 
living  in  the  world,  are  to  acquire  by  constant  union 
.of  their  hearts  -with  Him  ]  by  constant  reference  of 
all  their  actions  to  Him ;  by  the  performance  of  all 
the  duties  of  their  state  of  life  with  that  purity  of 


Introductory.  21 

intention  which  can  alone  render  them  pleasing  to 
Ilim,  or  worthy  of  supernatural  reward.  And  how, 
again,  ordinarily  speaking,  are  these  feiTcnt  souls  to 
be  instructed  in  all  these  matters,  except  through  the 
medium  of  the  pulpit  ? 

Hence  it  is  that  the  preacher  of  the  Gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  called  upon  to  exercise  a  ministry 
which  is  most  sublime  in  itself,  and  one  which,  as  it 
may  not  be  assumed  without  a  divine  vocation,  surely 
no  man  will  be  rash  enough  to  attempt  to  discharge 
without  that  fit  and  proper  preparation  which  is  due 
to  the  Gospel  which  he  preaches,  and  to  Him  who  is 
the  author  of  it. 

Be  he  the  hiunblest  coimtry  curate  addressing  but  a 
congregation  of  simple  and  unlettered  peasants,  the 
preacher,  when  he  ascends  the  pulpit,  does  so  never- 
theless in  the  name  and  with  the  authority  of  God, 
and  with  the  same  divine  mission  with  which  our 
blessed  Lord  Himself  came  to  make  kuow^i  the  saving- 
truths  of  His  Gospel  to  men.  Sicut  misit  me  Pater 
et  ego  miilo  vos  .  .  .  euntes  in  mundum  univer- 
sum  jprcedicate  evangelium  omni  creaturoe 
docete  mnnes  gentes*  To  him,  as  truly  as  to  Moses 
of  old,  doth  Almighty  God  declare  :  Perge  igilur  et 
ego  ero  in  ore  tuo,  doceboque  te  quid  loquaris.\  JVe 
timeas  a  facie  eorum  :  quia  ego  tecum  sum-X  To  him, 
does  our  divine  Lord  speak  as  truly  and  as  really  as 

*  Joan,  XX.  t  Exod.  iv,  12.  X  Jerem.  i,  7. 


22  Ikteoductoet. 

He  did  when  He  charged  His  apostles  to  teach  His 
Gospel  to  all  nations  ;  promising  at  the  same  time  to 
be  with  them  in  their  preaching,  even  to  the  consum- 
mation of  the  world  ;  and  imposing  upon  all  men  the 
obligation  of  listening  to  His  ministers  with  the  same 
reverence,  and  of  paying  the  same  obedience  to  them, 
as  to  Himself  Docenies  eos  se7-vare  omnia  quaecumque 
mandavi  vohis  .  .  .  Qui  vos  audit  me  audit,  et 
qui  vos  sjpemit  me  spernit*  Hence  it  is  that  the  true 
minister  of  the  Gospel  realizes  so  deeply  and  so  inti- 
mately the  sublimity  and  the  vast  importance  of  the 
mission  confided  to  him — Prcedicate  evangelium. 
Hence  it  is  he  labours  so  assiduously  to  prepare  for  his 
ministry,  that,  forgetting  himself  and  all  mere  earthly 
ends,  he  may  preach  only  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  cru- 
cified ;  that,  like  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  he 
may  be  able  to  exclaim,  Hon  enim  qucero  quoe  vestra 
sunt,  sed  vos.\  Hence  it  is  that  every  tone  of  his 
voice,  every  glance  of  his  eye,  and  every  gesture  of 
his  hand,  manifests  how  deeply  he  is  penetrated  with 
the  importance  of  the  duty  entrusted  to  him,  and  how 
intimately  he  realizes  the  grandeur  of  the  office  which 
he  discliarges  when  he  speaks  as  the  ambassador  of 
Jesus  Christ  —  Pro  Christo  legatione  fungimur,  tan- 
quam  Deo  exhoriante  per  nos.^  Hence  it  is  that  he 
preaches  the  Gospel  of  his  Divine  Master  ami  omni 
imjperio,  that  he  is  "  instant  in  season  and  out  of  sea- 
*  Luc.  X,  16.  +  2  Cor.  xii,  14.  ^  lb.  v,  20. 


Introductory.  23 

son,  that  he  reproves,  entreats,  and  rebukes,  in  all 
patience  and  doctrine."  And  hence,  too,  it  is,  that 
when  he  sees  how  God  blesses  the  words  of  his  mouth  ; 
when  he  sees  how  sinners  are  converted  when  he  does 
but  appeal  to  them  ;  and  how,  under  his  teaching,  the 
just  run  on  with  giant  strides  in  the  way  of  holy  per- 
fection, the  fervent  minister  of  the  Gospel  is  never 
tired  of  labouring  that  he  may  prepare  himself  to 
discharge  more  and  more  efficaciously  the  ministiy  of 
the  Word  :  with  a  greater  exactness  in  doctrinal  teach- 
ing ;  with  a  greater  facility  of  pleasing  his  hearers, 
and  of  thus  enchaining  their  attention ;  and,  above 
all,  with  a  greater  power  of  influencing  and  moving 
the  wills  of  men,  which  is  the  ultimate  end  and  object 
of  all  preaching. 

The  means  l^y  which  the  sacred  orator  proposes  to 
himself  to  obtain  his  end  is  by  instructing,  by  pleas- 
ing, and  by  moping  his  flock.  Docere,  placere,  et 
mover e.  These  are  the  three  elements  of  the  power 
by  which  the  rhetorician  acts  upon  the  souls  of  his 
fellow-men,  and  acquires  his  influence  over  them ;  a 
truth  which  St.  Augustine  has  expressed  in  terms  as 
brief  as  they  are  to  the  point :  Veritas  pateat,  Veri- 
tas placeat,  Veritas  moveat.  By  clear  and  exact  in- 
struction, combined  with  solid  argumentation,  the 
sacred  orator  is  to  enlighten  and  convince  the  under- 
standing of  his  audience.  By  presenting  that  instruc- 
tion and  argumentation  in  a  pleasing,  graceful,  and,  so 


24  Intkoductory. 

fur  as  his  subject  may  permit  or  demand,  in  a  polished 
style  and  manner,  he  is  to  prepare  the  minds  and 
lieai-ts  of  his  audience  for  those  final  and  highest 
strokes  of  art  by  which  he  aspires  to  influence  their 
wills  and  move  them  to  his  purpose.  Finally,  having 
convinced  the  understanding  by  the  force  of  his  argu- 
ments, whilst  by  the  graces  of  his  composition  and  his 
dcliveiy  he  has  at  the  same  time  rendered  his  hearers 
atientos,  benevolos,  et  dociles ;  the  speaker,  by  the 
unction  which  he  displays  at  once  in  his  matter  and 
in  its  deliveiy,  by  the  burning  earnestness,  the  zeal 
for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  welfare  and  salvation 
of  the  souls  of  his  listeners  which  he  manifests  in 
every  tone  of  his  voice,  and  even  in  every  gesture  of 
his  hand,  acts  upon  the  hearts  of  his  hearers,  turns 
them  whither  he  will,  and  moulds  them  to  his  pur- 
pose, thus  attaining  the  happ}^  result  which  every 
orator,  but  more  especially  eveiy  .preacher,  must 
necessarily  propose  to  himself  as  the  end  and  aim  of 
all  his  preaching,  viz.  :  the  persuading  of  his  hearers 
to  take  those  good  resolutions  which  he  has  already, 
by  his  argumentation,  convinced  them  they  ought  to 
adopt. 

It  is  one  thing  to  convince  om-  auditors  that  they 
are  bound  to  take  a  certain  step,  it  is  another  to  per- 
f<uade  them  to  take  it.  Conviction  is  an  essential  part 
of  persuasion,  but  it  is  not  persuasion.  Persuasion, 
i.  e.,  the  art  of  influencing  the  will,  is  the  ultimate 


INTRODUCTORY.  25 

end  of  all  preaching,  propei-1}'  so  called.  It  depends 
on  two  things — 1st,  on  arguinent  to  prove  the  fitness 
of  the  object  proposed,  and  the  expediency  of  the 
means  suggested;  and — 2ndly,  on  ex/toriaiion,  i.  e.,  on 
the  exciting  of  men  to  adopt  those  means,  by  appeal- 
ing to  their  passions.*  This  is  the  analysis  of  persua- 
sion, and,  as  is  evident,  the  orator,  in  order  to  persuade, 
must  undei'stand  thoroughly  the  various  i)arts  of  which 
it  is  composed.  He  must  know  how  to  satLsfi/  the 
judgment  by  solid  argument,  and  he  must  know  how 
to  7nove  the  will  by  the  skilful  stining  of  the  passions 
which  influence  the  human  heail.  We  call  one  of 
these  the  argumentative,  and  the  other,  the  pathetic, 
or  moving  part  of  a  discourse.  He  wlio  best  knows 
how  to  combine  the  two  qualities^  in  their  due  pro- 
portion and  measm-e,  is  undoubtedly  the  best  and 
most  effective  preacher ;  and  these  pages  have  been 
compiled  in  the  humble  hope  of  aiding  the  young 
preacher,  or  the  ecclesiastical  student,  in  his  efforts  to 
attain  this  two-fold  excellence. 

The  dignity  and  grandeur  of  the  office  of  the  Chris- 
tian preacher  have,  perhaps,  never  been  more  eloquently 
described  than  in  Lamartine's  magnificent  sketch  of 
Bossuet,  the  true  prince  of  the  French  school  of  pul- 
pit eloquence.  We  quote  from  the  translation  pub- 
lished by  Mr.  Bentley,  London  :t 

*  Whately's  "  Elements  of  Rhetoric." 

t"' Memoirs  of  Celebrated  Characters,''  by  Lamartiue.  Loudon: 
Richard  Bentley. 


26  Intkoductoey. 

"  Tlie  priest,  in  all  his  majest}^,  his  authority,  his 
intellectual  pride,  could  not  be  better  represented  than 
in  the  person  of  Bossuet. 

"  Bossuet,  to  exhibit  hhnself  as  he  was, — to  develop, 
in  their  extent  and  grandeur,  the  high  qualities  of 
soul,  genius,  diplomacy,  energy,  and  eloquence,  with 
which  nature  had  endo\yed  him, — could  not  have  been 
anything  but  a  priest. 

"  This  eminent  person  was  made  for  the  priesthood, 
the  pontificate,  the  altar,  the  vestibule  of  the  cathe- 
dral, the  pulpit,  the  trailing  robe,  and  the  tiara  ;  any 
other  place,  office,  or  habiliment,  would  be  inconsist- 
ent with  such  a  nature.  The  mind  could  not  picture 
Bossuet  to  itself  in  the  habit  of  a  layman.  He  was 
born  a  high-priest ;  his  nature  and  profession  are  so 
indissolubly  bound  up  and  blended  together,  that  even 
thought  "itself  camiot  separate  them  ;  he  is  not  a  man, 
but  an  oracle. 

"  That  instinctive  holiness  which  surrounds  the 
priest  with  a  prestige  of  virtue  superior  to  the  rest  of 
mankind,  is  not  entirely  a  chimera ;  respect  for  the 
priesthood  is  but  an  outward  sign  of  that  inward 
veneration  which  eveiy  pious  mind  feels  towards  the 
Creator.  The  ministers  of  religion  pass  their  lives  in 
more  intimate  communion  with  the  Deity  than  mere 
men  of  the  woi'ld  are  accustomed  to  seek  ;  they  have 
holy  names  stamped  upon  their  bosoms ;  they  wear 
the  livery  of  the  King  of  kings  :  and  when  we  salute 


Introductory.  27 

them,  we  pay  homage  to  the  Master  through  Hi«  ser- 
vants. 

"Moreover,  they  speak  from  the  tribune  of  the 
soul  ;  they  are  the  orators  of  moral  feeling  ;  the  pul- 
pit is  their  throne  ;  this  throne,  to  the  occupier  who 
luus  genius  to  wield  his  power,  and  oppoilunity,  is 
greater  than  that  of  kings  ;  it  is  from  thence  the  con- 
sciences of  men  are  governed. 

-'  Of  all  the  eminences  which  a  mortal  may  leach 
on  earth,  the  highest  to  a  man  of  talent  is  incontesta- 
bly  the  sacred  pulpit.  If  this  individual  happens  to 
be  a  Bossuet ;  that  is  to  say,  if  he  unites  in  his  person 
conviction  to  inspire  the  commanding  attitude,  purity 
of  life  to  enhance  the  power  of  truth,  untiring  zeal, 
an  air  of  imposing  authorit}^,  celebrity  which  com- 
mands respectful  attention,  episcopal  rank  which  con- 
secrates, age  which  gives  holiness  of  appearance,  genius 
which  coiLstitutes  the  divinity  of  speech,  retlective 
power  which  marks  the  mastery  of  intelligence,  sud- 
den bursts  of  eloquence  which  carry  the  minds  of 
listeners  by  assault,  poetic  imageiy  which  adds  lustre 
to  truth,  a  deep  sonorous  voice  which  reflects  the  tone 
of  the  thoughts,  silveiy  locks,  the  paleness  of  strong 
emotion,  the  penetrating  glance  and  expressive  mouth  ; 
— in  a  word,  all  the  animated  and  well-varied  gestures 
which  indicate  the  emotions  of  the  soul  ; — if  such  a 
man  issues  slowly  from  his  self-concentrated  reflection, 
as  from  some  inward  sanctuary  ;  if  he  suffers  himself 


28  Iktkoductoky. 

to  be  raised  gradually  by  excitement,  like  the  eagle, 
the  first  heavy  flapping  of  whose  wings  can  scarcely 
produce  air  enough  to  carry  him  aloft ;  if  he  at  length 
respires  freely,  and  takes  flight ;  if  he  no  longer  feels 
the  pulpit  beneath  his  feet ;  if  he  draws  in  a  full 
])reath  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  pours  fovtli  unceas- 
ingly from  this  lofty  height,  to  his  hearers,  the  inspi- 
ration which  comes  to  them  as  the  word  of  God  ; 
this  being  is  no  longer  individual  man,  he  becomes  an 
organ  of  the  Divine  will — a  prophetic  voice. 

"  And  what  a  voice !  A  voice  which  is  never 
hoarse,  broken,  soured,  irritated,  or  troubled  by  the 
worldly  and  passionate  struggles  of  interest  peculiar 
to  the  time  ;  a  voice  which,  like  that  of  the  thunder 
in  the  clouds,  or  the  organ  in  the  cathedral,  has  never 
l)een  anything  but  the  medium  of  power  and  Divine 
persuasion  to  the  soul ;  a  voice  which  only  speaks  to 
kneeling  auditors  ;  a  voice  which  is  listened  to  in  pro- 
found silence,  to  which  none  reply  save  by  an  inclina- 
tion of  the  head  or  by  falling  tears — those  mute 
applauses  of  the  soul ! — a  voice  which  is  never  refuted 
or  contradicted,  even  when  it  astonishes  or  wounds ; 
a  voice,  in  fine,  which  does  not  speak  in  the  name  of 
opinion,  which  is  vaiiable  ;  nor  in  the  name  of  phi- 
losophy, which  is  open  to  discussion  •  nor  in  the  name 
of  coimtry,  which  is  local  ;  nor  in  the  name  of  regal 
supremacy,  wliich  is  temporal ;  nor  in  the  name  of 
the  speaker  himself,  who  is  an  agent  transformed  for 


Introductory.  29 

the  occasion  ;  but  which  spouks  in  the  name  of  God, 
an  authority  of  language  unequalled  upon  earth,  and 
against  which  the  lowest  murmur  is  impious  and  the 
smallest  opposition  a  bhisphemy." 

"  Such  is  the  tribune  of  the  priesthood,  the  tripod 
of  the  prophet,  the  pulpit  of  the  sacred  orator.  We 
can  only  behold  therein  Bossuet,  and  we  camiot  recog- 
nise Bossuet  in  any  other  place.  His  life  is  but  the 
history  of  his  pulpit  eloquence.  The  man  is  worthy 
of  the  rostrum  from  which  he  preached ;  no  other 
oratoiy  has  ever  equalled  his.  Great  names  have  been 
selected  and  preserved,  but  Bossuet,  whose  genius 
equals  theii-s,  excels  them  in  the  range  and  elevation 
of  his  subject.  They  speak  of  Earth,  while  he  dis- 
courses of  Heaven.  Cicero  does  not  surpass  him  in  a 
careful  selection  and  ample  supply  of  words  ;  Demos- 
thenes possesses  not  superior  energy  of  persuasion  ; 
Chatham  is  not  more  richly  endowed  with  poetic 
oratoiy  ;  the  periods  of  Miral)eau  do  not  flow  more 
easily  ;  Vergniaud  is  not  more  redundant  of  imageiy 
and  illustration.  All  have  less  elevation,  extent,  and 
majesty  in  their  language  ;  they  were  humai^  oratoi"S, 
but  Bossuet  alone  was  divine !  To  understand  him 
fully,  we  must  fu'st  mount  to  his  own  level,  and  en- 
counter him  in  the  Heavens." 


il 


CHAPTER  II. 

NECESSITY  AND  OBLIGATION  OF  DILIGENT  PREPARA- 
TION. 

HERE  are,  no  doubt,  occasions  in  which  a 
pastor  is  so  overwhelmed  by  press  of  busi- 
ness, or  is  called  upon  so  miexpectedly  to 
preach,  that  preparation  is  morally  impos- 
sible. In  such  circumstances,  excused  b}'  his  necessity 
before  God  and  man,  he  has  a  right  to  expect  the 
assistance  of  heaven,  and  the  indulgence  of  his  hear- 
ers. With  these  exceptions,  we  have  no  hesitation  in 
asserting  that  the  pastor  of  souls  is  bound  to  pi-epare 
his  discourses  carefully,  and  with  such  an  amount  of 
diligence  as  will  render  them  efficacious  to  their  end — 
the  salvation  of  his  flock. 

If  he  be  bound  sub  gravi  to  instruct  his  people,  he 
must  be  bomid  to  prepare  himself  to  do  so  in  an  eifec- 
tive  and  fruitful  manner,  since  there  must  be  some  pro- 
poilion  between  the  end  and  the  means.  It  is  an 
incontestible  fact  that  the  preacher  who  speaks  with- 
out serious  preparation,  speaks,  as  an  ordinary  rule, 
without  order  or  solidity.  He  continually  repeats 
himself,  runs  off"  into  interminable  or  usele&s  disres- 


Necessity  of  Diligent  Preparation.         31 

sions,  iind  sinotlicrs  his  idciis  under  u  deluge  of  empty 
verbiage.  There  are  few  preachers,  more  especially 
young  ones,  Avho,  when  they  venture  to  speak  without 
preparation,  do  not  run  the  risk  of  acquitting  them- 
selves badly,  and  of  incurring  ship^NTeck  before  the 
eyes  of  all.  Besides,  there  are  moments  of  sterility 
in  which  even  the  readiest  intellect  finds  itself  baiTcn 
and  cold.  There  are  a  thousand  influences  which  may 
arise  to  discompose  and  cause  us  to  lose  the  thread  of 
our  discourse.  Sometimes  an  inattentive  audience, 
sometimes  an  unforeseen  circumstance,  sometimes  a 
troublesome  imagination  which  obtrudes  itself  upon 
us,  and,  spite  of  all  our  efforts  to  repel  it,  disturbs  the 
order  of  our  ideas  and  the  chain  of  our  reasoninof. 
Hence,  the  reasonableness  and  truth  of  the  proverbs, 
"  A  sermon  which  costs  tim  preacher  little  to  compose, 
costs  the  audience  a  great  deal  to  listen  to,^^  and, 
"  That  which  costs  little,  is  ivorth  precisely/  what  it 
costs."  Hence,  we  easily  deduce  the  obligation  by 
which  the  pastor  is  bound  to  prepare  his  discourses 
carefully,  since,  without  such  preparation,  he  runs  the 
risk  of  lowering  himself  in  the  eyes  of  his  people, 
and,  what  is  much  worse,  of  compromising  his  min- 
istry. 

The  preacher  who  ascends  the  pulpit  without  prepa- 
ration will  scarcely  escape  being  guilty  of  irreverence 
to  the  Word  of  God.  This  divine  Word,  w4iich,  ac- 
cording to  St.  Augustine,  merits  the  same  respect  as 


32         Necessity  of  Diligent  Peepakation. 

the  body  of  Christ,  is  not  to  be  presented  to  the  peo- 
ple except  in  such  a  guise  as  is  proper  to  conciliate 
their  veneration  and  esteem.  On  the  other  hand,  a, 
good  sermon  is  a  difficult  undertaking,  and  he  who 
supposes  that  it  can  be  accomplished  without  much 
patient  preparation,  without  much  reflection  and  la- 
bour, deludes  himself  most  egregiously.  If  even  those 
who  prepare  most  carefully  sometimes  fail,  what  is 
the  certain  fate  of  those  who  never  prepare  at  all  ? 
Is  it  any  wonder  if  they  end  in  talking  nonsense,  in 
becoming  ludicrous  through  their  empty  assumption, 
or  pitiable  from  their  miserable  failure  either  to  please, 
to  instruct,  or  to  move  ? 

The  young  preacher  who  attempts  to  spealv  without 
pre]3aration  is  certainly  wanting  in  his  duty  to  God. 
The  ambassador  who  shoukl  not  worthily  represent 
his  prince,  who  should  not  use  his  utmost  efforts  to 
brino;  these  negotiations  with  which  he  has  been 
charged  to  a  successful  conclusion,  would  justly  be 
looked  upon  as  a  traitor  and  prevaricator.  When  the 
preacher  ascends  the  pulpit  he  represents  the  Divine 
Majesty,  he  is  the  ambassador  charged  with  the  ^reat 
and  all-important  interests  of  the  glory  of  God,  and 
the  salvation  of  immortal  souls  ;  and  is  it  likely  that 
the  young  preacher,  weak  from  his  very  inexperience, 
who  presumes  to  treat  of  these  momentous  mattei-s 
without  all  due  and  diligent  preparation,  will  not  dis- 
honour his  embassy  by  his  negligence  and  his  rashness, 


Necessity  of  Diligent  Preparatio]!^.         33 

will  not  expose  those  divine  and  eternal  interests  with 
which  he  is  charged  to  serious  and,  perhaps,  irrepara- 
ble injury  ? 

Does  he  tempt  God  by  expecting  a  miracle  to  sup- 
ply for  his  wilful  negligence  ;  that  is  to  say,  by  ex- 
pecting to  instruct  and  move  his  flock  by  means  of  a 
discoui-se  which  contains  neither  instruction,  nor  any- 
thing calculated  to  move  the  sinner's  heart  ;  which  is 
wanting  at  once  in  clearness  and  order,  in  solidity  and 
unction  ?  It  is  true  that  the  ultimate  fruit  and  suc- 
cess of  our  preaching  depend  upon  Him  who  giveth 
the  increase,  but  it  is  equally  true  that  the  ordinary 
Providence  of  God  only  thus  crowns  the  eflbrts  of 
those  who  spare  no  pains,  Avho  omit  no  labour,  to  pre- 
pare their  discourses,  to  render  them  solidly  instruc- 
tive, and  calculated  by  their  unction  and  warmth  to 
produce  salutary  impressions  upon  the  souls  of  the 
hearers. 

Not  only  does  such  a  preacher  fail  in  his  duty 
towards  God,  but  also  towards  his  audience.  The 
most  hunible,  equally  with  the  rich  and  the  learned, 
have  a  right  to  be  respected.  They  are  equally  pos- 
sessed of  immortal  souls  which  have  been  redeemed 
by  the  priceless  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  are 
equally  destined  to  reign  for  eternity  in  heaven.  They 
have,  therefore,  an  equal  right  to  be  treated  with  re- 
spect, and  if  the  discourse  which  is  to  be  addressed 

especially  to  the  humble  is,  of  its  nature,  more  simple, 
3 


34         Necessity  of  Diligent  Preparatio^t. 

it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  the  preacher  is  ex- 
empted from  bestowing  upon  it  that  preparation  which, 
mutatis  nnitandis,  it  demands  from  him. 

We  may,  or  we  may  not,  be  prepared  to  adopt  the 
opinion, of  the  theologian,  Navarre,  who  holds  that 
the  preachei;  who  habitually  neglects  to  prepare  his 
sermons  is  guilty  of  a  grave  temptation  of  God  ;  but, 
in  any  case,  it  seems  ceitain  that  such  a  person  incurs 
a  very  serious  responsibility.  Maledictus  qui  facit 
opus  Dei  negligenter*  says  Holy  Writ,  and  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  any  work  which  is  more  truly  the 
opus  Dei  than  the  preaching  of  His  Holy  Gospel. 
What  sensible  man,  in  order  to  save  himself  a  little 
labour,  which,  if  he  be  a  man  of  study  and  ecclesias- 
tical habits,  should  be  truly  a  labour  of  love,  will  run 
the  risk  of  charging  his  conscience  with  the  eternal 
loss  of  those  souls  who  might,  perchance,  have  been 
saved  had  he  laboured  as  he  ought  to  have  done  to 
prepare  himself  to  instruct  them  better  in  their  duty, 
and  to  move  their  hearts  more  efficaciously  to  God  ! 
If  «uch  a  negligence,  according  to  Quintilian,  be  ut- 
terly- unpardonable  in  a  mere  secular  advocate,  In 
susceptd  causa,  perjidi  ac  prodiloris  est,  pejus  ogere 
quam  possit^j  Vfhat  is  to  be  said  of  the  Christian 
priest,  who,  if  he  fail  in  his  duty,  compromises  not 
merely  the  fortunes  or  the  honour  of  worldlings,  but 
those  interests  which  are  infinitely  higher,  holier,  and 
*  Jer.  xlviii,  10.  t  Lib.  xii,  9. 


Necessity  of  Diligent  Pkeparation".         35 

more  sublime,  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  salvation  of 
those  souls  for  whom  Christ  died.  If  it  be  true  that 
each  one  is  to  be  rewarded  according  to  his  labour. 
JJniisquisque  propriam  tnercedem  accipiet  secundum 
suum  laborem*  what  reward  is  he  to  receive  from  his 
jNIaster's  hand  who  has  no  labour  to  show  ;  no  souls 
who  have  been  instructed  by  him  unto  justice  to  lead 
to  that  Master's  feet ;  he,  whose  words  have  been,  in 
very  truth,  but  as  the  sounding  brass  and  the  tinkling 
cymbal. 

Nor  let  any  one  seek  to  make  excuses  for  his  negli- 
gence, by  pretending  that  he  thus  preaches  more  apos- 
tolically.  Let  him  remember  that,  if  ceilaiu  holy 
men  have  produced  very  great  fruit  by  the  most  sim- 
ple and  unpremeditated  discourses,  they  were  pos- 
sessed of  virtues  and  sanctity  to  which  he  can  lay  no 
claim.  If  they  ever  spoke  without  preparation,  it 
was  simply  because,  on  account  of  their  vast  occupa- 
tions and  apostolic  labours,  preparation  was  morally 
impossible  ;  and  God,  seeing  their  good  will  and  their 
A^alid  excuse,  blessed  their  good  intention  and  crowned 
their  work  with  a  benediction  which  amply  supplied 
for  all  its  shortcomings  in  the  way  of  positive  prepara- 
tion. Let  him  remember  that  the  great  Saints,  who 
are  the  preacher's  best  models,  never  desisted  from 
careful  and  studious  preparation  of  their  discoui'ses 
St.  Augustine,  that  master  of  sacred  eloquence,  eveu 
*  1  Cor.  iii,  8. 


'36         Necessity  of  Diligent  Peeparation". 

after  having  preached  every  Sunday  for  thirty  years, 
continued  to  prepare  liis  instructions  witli  the  greatest 
care,  as  he  himself  tells  us  at  the  end  of  his  fourth 
sermon  on  the  103rd  Psalm.  Magno  labore  qucesita 
et  inventa  sunt :  magno  labore  nuntiata  et  disputata 
sunt :  sit  labor  noster  fructaosus  vobis,  et  benedicel 
anhna  nostra  Dominum.  St.  Chrysostom  never  in- 
vited any  one  to  his  table,  in  order  that  he  might  have 
more  time  to  prepare  his  instructions,  applying  to 
himself  the  words  of  the  apostle,  JSfon  est  oequum  nos 
derelinquere  verbum  Dei  et  ministrare  mensis  ;*  and 
St.  Charles  Borromeo  never  considered  himself  ex- 
cused from  this  preparation,  even  in  his  busiest  mo- 
ments and  notwithstanding  the  facility  which  he  had 
acquired  from  long  study  and  frequent  practice.  In 
fine,  St.  Liguorio,  spite  of  the  simplicity  both  of  style 
and  expression  which  he  requires  in  the  preacher, 
never  allowed  the  members  of  his  congregation  to 
ascend  the  pulpit  unless  they  had  first  written  what 
they  intended  to  say,  until  such  time  as  their  talent 
had  been  so  developed  by  study  and  practice  as  to 
render  this  minute  preparation  unnecessaiy.  But, 
even  then,  he  required  them  to  meditate  their  matter 
profoundly,  and  to  make  a  well-defined  and  substantial 
plan  of  their  discoui-se.  And,  if  this  be  the  teaching 
and  the  practice  of  those  who  ought  to  be  at  once  his 
guides  and  his  models,  have  we  gone  beyond  due  lim- 
*  Act.  vi,  2. 


Necessity  of  Diligent  Preparation.         37 

its  in  thus  pointing  out  to  the  young  preacher  the 
obligation  under  which  he  lies  of  devoting  careful, 
solid,  and  studious  preparation  to  his  discourses  ?  Do 
we  say  too  much  when  Ave  affirm  that,  in  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, there  are  few  clergymen  who,  if  they 
begin  earlij  in  the  week,  and  husband  their  leisure 
discreetly,  will  not  be  able  to  find  ample  time  to  pre- 
pare their  matter  and  the  best  manner  of  delivering 
it,  without  in  the  least  degree  trenching  upon  that 
relaxation  which  is  becoming,  useful,  and  necessaiy 
for  them  ?  Do  we  go  beyond  our  province  in  again 
earnestly  reminding  the  ecclesiastical  student,  or  the 
young  preacher,  of  the  sublime  and  all-important  in- 
terests which  are  at  stake,  the  advancement  of  God's 
greater  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  immortal  souls  ? 
It  is  ceiiain  that  there  are  many  of  his  flock  who  will 
never  acquire  that  knowledge  which  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  salvation  unless  they  acquire  it  from  his 
teaching  ;  many  who  will  never  be  reconciled  to  their 
ofiended  Maker,  unless  the  terror  of  God's  judgments 
are~driven  into  their  souls  by  his  preaching.  Is  it  too 
much  to  remind  him  that  his  reward  is  to  be  accord- 
ing to  his  labour — to  remind  him  that  he  who  in- 
stnicts  even  one  soul  unto  justice  shall  shine  for  all 
eteiiiity  like  a  star  in  the  kingdom  of  his  Father  ? 
Is  it  too  much  to  encourage  him  to  take  upon  himself, 
cheerfully  and  willingly,  that  labour  which  the  due 
discharge  of  this  most  holy  and  most  important  work 


38         Necessity  of  Diligent  Peepaeation. 

will  require  at  his  hands,  by  the  remembrance  that  the 
suiFerings  of  this  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  the  gloiy  that  is  to  come  ? 


CHAPTER  III. 

REMOTE  PREPARATIOISr  FOR  PREACHING. 

I  REACHING  is  essentially  a  practical  work. 
Although,  whether  we  consider  the  mission 
and  authority  of  the  preacher  or  the  mat- 
ter and  end  of  his  preaching,  one  of  the 
highest  works  to  which  the  energies  of  man  can  be 
devoted,  it  is  equally  true  that  it  is  essentially  a  prac- 
tical work,  with  a  practical  end  to  be  attained  by 
practical  means ;  and,  whilst  in  our  preparation  to 
discharge  the  sacred  obligation  of  preaching  the  Gos- 
pel, we  are,  according  to  the  famous  rule  of  St.  Igna- 
tius, to  pray  as  if  everything  depends  upon  God,  we 
are  to  labour  as  if  everything  depends  upon  ourselves. 
In  the  follo^^^ng  pages  we  therefore  propose  to  con- 
sider : — I.  The  preparation,  remote  and  proximate,  for 
preaching.  II.  The  method  to  be  followed  in  com- 
posing a  sermon  ;  and,  III.  The  manner  of  deliver- 
ing it. 

SECTION  I. 

STYLE. 

The  remote  preparation  for  preaching  consists  in  the 
employment  of  certain  preparatory  means  which  are 


40        Eemote  Peepakation  foe  Peeaching. 

calculated  to  give  us  a  facility  when  we  come  to  the 
actual  work  of  composition.  It  would,  perhaps,  be 
more  correct  to  say,  that  the  remote  preparation  for 
preaching  consists  in  the  formation  of  our  style,  which, 
we  need  scarcely  remark,  is  a  most  important  matter. 
It  is  not  so  easy  to  explain  what  we  mean  by  style. 
It  is  not  merely  language,  neither  does  it  consist  in 
words.  Perhaps  the  best  idea  we  can  form  of  indi- 
vidual style  is  that  of  Dr.  Blair,  Avho  describes  it  as 
the  peculiar  manner  in  which  a  man  expresses  his  con- 
ceptions by  means  of  language.  Style  must,  there- 
fore, necessarily  have  some  reference  to  the  manner  in 
which  a  man  thinks.  It  is  a  painting,  in  words,  of 
the  ideas  which  are  born  in  a  man's  mind,  and  of  the 
manner  in  which  they  are  born  there  ;  and,  hence,  as 
no  two  men  think  in  precisely  the  same  manner,  so  no 
two  men  will  have  precisely  the  same  style.  Hence, 
too,  in  proportion  as  a  man's  mind  is  bold,  clear,  oi'ig- 
inal,  logical  or  sentimental,  Avill  his  style  partake  of 
those  qualities,  if  he  be  able  to  express  his  thoughts 
Avith  facility  in  words. 

There  are  many  men  who  think  with  great  vigour, 
justice,  and  originality,  and  who,  nevertheless,  when 
they  attempt  to  speak  or  write,  are  said  to  have  a  veiy 
bad  style,  and  the  reason  of  this  is,  that,  either  from 
some  natural  failing,  or,  more  probably,  from  want  of 
early  training,  they  do  not  possess  such  a  command  of 
language  as  enables  them  to  express  their  own  thoughts 


Remote  Peeparation  for  Preaching.        41 

as  they  conceived  them.  Hence,  there  is  a  want  of 
haimony  and  *concord  between  the  thought  and  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  expressed.  The  speaker  feels 
that  he  is  not  saying  what  he  thought  in  the  way  in 
which  he  conceived  it ;  that  he  is  endeavouring  to  ex- 
press his  idea  in  language  which  neither  suits  it  nor 
expresses  it ;  and,  hence,  as  a  natural  consequence, 
that  he  expresses  weakly  and  badly  ideas  which  in 
themselves  were  original  and  powerful  ;  and  which, 
if  he  could  have  put  them  into  words,  might  have  left 
their  mark  upon  his  fellow-men. 

The  possession,  therefore,  of  a  good  style,  supposes 
that  a  man  thinks  well,  and  that  he  expresses  those 
thoughts  well.  It  supposes,  too,  that,  as  every  man 
of  mind  thinks  in  a  manner  which,  under  some  re- 
spect, is  peculiar  to  himself,  so,  he  expresses  himself 
in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself ;  or,  in  other  words, 
in  a  manner  which  is  his  own  ;  and,  according  as  the 
logical  or  sentimental  faculty  predominates  in  his 
nature,  with  a  predominance  of  one  or  other  of  these 
qualities  in  his  style. 

The  following  admirable  remarks  on  this  subject 
occur  in  Dr.  Newman's  "  Essays  on  Univei-sity  Sub- 
jects :"*— 

"  A  great  author,  Gentlemen,  is  not  one  who  merely 
has  a  copia  verborum,  whether  in  prose  or  verse,  and 
can,  as  it  were,  turn  on  at  his  will  any  number  of 

*  Essay  ii.,  Literature. 


43        Remote  Preparation^  for  Preaching. 

splendid  phrases  and  swelling  sentences  ;  but  he  is  one 
who  has  something  to  say  and  knows  'how  to  say  it. 
I  do  not  claim  for  him,  as  such,  any  great  depth  of 
thought,  or  breadth  of  view,  or  philosophy,  or  sagac- 
ity, or  knowledge  of  human  nature,  or  experience  of 
human  life,  though  these  additional  gifts  he  may  have, 
and  the  more  he  has  of  them  the  greater  he  is  ;  but  I 
ascribe  to  him,  as  his  characteristic  gift,  in  a  large 
sense  the  faculty  of  expression.  He  is  master  of  the 
two-fold  Aoyof,  the  thought  and  the  word,  distinct, 
but  inseparable  from  each  other.  He  may,  if  so  be, 
elaborate  his  compositiors,  or  he  may  pour  out  his 
improvisations,  but  in  either  case  he  has  but  one  aim, 
and  is  conscientious  and  single-minded  in  fulfilling  it. 
That  aim  is  to  give  forth  what  he  has  within  him  ; 
and  from  his  very  earnestness  it  comes  to  pass,  that, 
whatever  be  the  splendour  of  his  diction  or  the  har- 
mony of  his  periods,  he  has  with  him  the  charm  of 
an  incommunicable  simplicity.  Whatever  be  his  sul> 
ject,  high  or  low,  he  treats  it  suitably  and  for  its  own 
sake.  If  he  is  a  poet,  '  nil  molitur  inej)te.'  If  he  is 
an  orator,  then  too  he  speaks,  not  only  '  distincte  '  and 
'  splendide,'  but  also  '  ajjfe.'  His  page  is  the  clear 
mirror  of  his  mind  and  life — 

'Quo  fit,  ut  omnis 
TotivA  patent  veluti  descripta  tabell^ 
Vita  senis.' 

"  He  writes  passionately,  because  he  feels  keenly ; 


Remote  PREPAKATio]sr  for  Preachixg.        43 

forcibly,  because  he  conceives  vividly  ;  he  sees  too 
clearly  to  be  vague  ;  he  is  too  serious  to  be  otiose  ;  he 
can  analyse  his  sulvject,  and  therefore  he  is  rich  ;  he 
embraces  it  as  a  Avhole  and  in  its  parts,  and  therefore 
he  is  consistent ;  he  has  a  firm  hold  of  it,  and  there- 
fore he  is  luminous.  When  his  imagination  wells  up, 
it  overflows  in  ornament ;  when  his  heart  is  touched, 
it  thrills  along  his  verse.  He  always  has  the  right 
word  for  the  right  idea,  and  never  a  word  too  much. 
If  he  is  brief,  it  is  because  few  words  suffice  ;  if  he  is 
lavish  of  them,  still  each  word  has  its  mark,  and  aids, 
not  embarrasses,  the  vigorous  march  of  his  elocution. 
He  expresses  what  all  feel,  but  all  cannot  say ;  and 
his  sayings  pass  into  proverbs  among  his  people,  and 
his  phrases  become  household  words  and  idioms  of 
their  daily  speech,  which  is  tesselated  with  the  rich 
fragments  of  his  language,  as  we  see  in  foreign  lauds 
the  marbles  of  Roman  grandeur  worlved  into  the  walls 
and  pavements  of  modern  palaces. 

"  Such  pre-eminently  is  Shakespeare  among  our- 
selves ;  such  pre-eminently  Virgil  among  the  Latins  ; 
such  in  their  degree  are  all  those  writers,  who  in  every 
nation  go  by  the  name  of  Classics.  To  pailicular 
nations  they  are  necessarily  attached  from  the  circum- 
stance of  the  variety  of  tongues,  and  the  peculiarities 
of  each  ;  but  so  far  they  have  a  catholic  and  ecu- 
menical character,  that  what  they  express  is  common 


44        Remote  Preparatiox  for  Preachi^tg. 

to  the  whole  race  of  man,  and  they  alone  are  able  to 
express  it." 

These  i-emarks  sufficiently  demonstrate  how  impor- 
tant it  is  that  every  man  who  aspires  by  inclination,  or 
who  is  bound  by  duty,  to  address  his  fellow-men, 
should  possess  a  good  style,  and  a  st}'le  which  is  his 
own.  As  an  ordinary  rule,  the  foundation  of  a  good 
style  must  be  laid  in  the  preparatory  classes  of  poetry 
and  rhetoric  which  form  a  necessary  part  of  the  edu- 
cation of  eveiy  clergyman  ;  and  it  is  evident  that  it 
would  be  out  of  place  here  to  enter  into  a  considere- 
tion  of  those  qualities  which  form  the  essential  condi- 
tions of  a  good  style,  in  the  general  acceptation  of  the 
term ;  tis,  for  example,  the  perspicuity  and  ornamen- 
tation of  language  ;  the  clearness,  unity,  strength,  and 
harmony,  which  are  required  to  constitute  a  perfect 
sentence,  and  the  manner  of  employing  the  various 
figures  of  speech.  Any  one  Avishing  for  more  infornui- 
tion  on  what  we  may  call  the  fundamentals  of  style, 
may  read  with  profit  Blair's  "  Lectures  on  Rhetoric 
and  Belles  Lettres,"  or  an}^  of  the  more  modern  works 
on  the  subject.  When,  therefore,  we  speak  of  the  re- 
mote preparation  for  preaching  as  consisting  in  the 
employment  of  certain  practical  means  which  are  cal- 
culated to  give  us  a  facility  in  actual  composition,  and 
in  the  formation  of  our  style,  we  use  the  term  style  in 
its  widest  sense,  and  we  also  take  for  granted  in  the 
student  the  possession  of  at  least  a  fair  preparatory 


Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching.        45 

English  education,  together  with  a  knowledge  of  the 
principles  of  English  composition,  and  a  reasonable 
facility  in  their  use.  The  remote  preparation,  in  this 
sense,  for  preaching  consists — In  a  judicious  cotuse 
of  reading  :  In  a  collection  of  good  and  striking  mat- 
ter :  In  the  practice  of  composition. 

SECTION  11. 

A  JUDICIOUS   COURSE   OF   READING. 

By  a  judicious  course  of  reading  is  not  meant,  in  this 
place,  such  a  course  of  reading  as  we  undeilake  with 
the  view  of  collecting  materials  to  aid  us  in  the  actual 
composition  of  our  discourse.  *  We  shall  speak  of  this 
later  on,  but,  at  present,  Ave  are  merely  considering 
that  course  of  studious  and  retiective  readins:  which  is 
entered  upon  for  the  purpose  of  forming  onr  style,  of 
cultivating  our  taste,  and  of  developing  to  the  utmost 
those  talents  with  which  nature  may  have  endowed  us. 
It  is  certain  that  the  studious  reading  of  good  models 
is  the  most  excellent  and  most  efficacious  means  of 
forming  our  style,  and  of  developing  our  taste.  Hence, 
the  celebrated  saying  of  Seneca,  Longum  iter  'pei 
prcecepta,  breve  el  efficax  per  exempla.  Those  rules 
and  precepts,  which  are  in  themselves  so  good  and  so 
useful,  are  never  half  so  efficacious  or  striking  as  when 
the}'  are  practically  brought  home  to  us  in  their  appli- 
cation by  a  powerful  writer  ;  and,  in  fact,  it  is  only  in 


46        Remote  Peeparatiok  for  Preaching. 

such  application  that  we  thoroughly  comprehend  the 
hearing  of  those  principles,  which,  until  we  see  them 
thus  applied,  must  be  to  us  more  or  less  theoretical. 
It  is  this  practical  application  which  enables  us  to  un- 
derstand them,  which  reveals  to  us  their  real  significa- 
tion, which  shows  them  to  us  in  practice,  and  thus, 
whilst  we  are  careful  to  retain  to  the  full  our  own 
individuality,  assists  us  to  form  and  develop  our  own 
peculiar  style.  So  ti-ue  is  it  that  the  judicious  read- 
ing of  good  models  is  one  of  the  most  efficacious  ways 
of  forming  our  style,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
read  such  writers  without  insensibly  acquiring,  in  some 
degree,  their  manner  of  expressing  themselves  ;  even 
although  we  may  read  without  any  such  object  before 
our  minds. 

That  we  may  derive  full  benefit  from  such  a  course 
of  reading  we  must  observe  during  it  certain  practical 
rules : — 

1.  We  must,  agreeably  to  the  counsel  of  Qiu'ntilian, 
Dill  non  nisi  ojyiimus  quisque,  et  qui  credentem  sibi 
mininie  fallit  legendus  est*  be  content  to  confine  our- 
selves for  a  long  time,  nntil  our  style  is  formed,  to  a 
smaU  number  of  g-ood  and  standard  works.  The  rea- 
son  of  this  is  evident.  By  reading  works  of  inferior 
merit  the  young  writer  exposes  himself  to  be  led  astray 
by  that  false  and  meretricious  style,  both  of  thought 
and  of  word,  which  is  so  common  at  the  present  day, 
*  Lib.  x.,  cap.  1. 


KeMOTE   PEEPARATIOIf  FOR  PREACHING.  47 

and  which  prevails  to  such  an  extent  in  the  sensational 
novels  and  the  flimsy  essay  writing  of  our  time.  He 
exposes  himself  to  the  danger  of  taking  as  true  elo- 
quence that  which  is  false  to  the  last  degree,  and  of 
thus,  perhaps  irretrievably,  ruining  his  style.  On  the 
other  hand,  by  reading,  studiously  and  attentively,  a 
small  ninnber  of  reidly  good  writers  in  that  peculiar 
departmeut  of  eloquence  which  we  aspire  to  cultivate, 
we  become  tilled  with  their  spirit — ^with  their  manner 
of  thinking  and  of  speaking.  We  make  them,  so  to 
speak,  our  o^vn  ;  and,  thus  cultivating  and  developing 
our  own  peculiar  talent,  we  acquire  a  true  tiiste,  and 
form  a  just,  peculiar,  and  more  or  less  striking  style  ; 
whilst  those  who  read  many  books,  without  thoroughly 
studying  any,  derive  but  veiy  little  solid  fruit  from 
their  reading. 

2.  Besides  confining  ourselves  to  a  few  standard 
writei-s,  we  must  also  take  care  not  to  read  too  much. 
In  such  a  course  of  reading  as  that  which  we  are  now 
considering,  it  is  a  golden  ride  to  read  but  little  at  a 
time,  and  to  meditate  on  that  little  very  deeply.  If 
we  read  too  much  at  once  the  mind  becomes  fatigued, 
and  the  eye  merely  rests  upon  the  page,  but  we  derive 
from  our  reading  no  clear,  distinct,  or  lasting  ideas. 
It  is  essential,  then,  to  think  much.  If,  for  example, 
we  are  studying  the  sermon  of  some  celebrated  writer, 
we  shall  examine  the  plan  and  general  arrangement 
of  the  discourse,  with  the  mutual  connection  of  the 


48        Eemote  Pkeparation  for  Preaching. 

various  pai-ts.  We  eudeavour  to  strip  the  proofs,  and 
the  reasons  brought  forward  iu  support  of  them,  of 
all  the  external  influence  which  they  may  derive  from 
the  name  and  authority  of  the  writer,  by  considering 
them  in  themselves.  We  endeavour  to  weigh  them 
in  the  balance  of  their  own  simple  value,  and  to  dis- 
cover whether  they  are  really  solid,  whether  they  are 
to  the  point,  and  whether  each  one  is  in  its  proper 
place.  We  endeavour  to  put  om*selves  in  the  position 
of  the  author.  We  say  to  oui*selves :  "  Here  I  had 
such  or  such  a  point  to  prove,  and  this  is  the  way  I 
have  proved  it."  After  having  thus  analyzed  the  dis- 
course, and  placed  its  skeleton  before  us  ;  having  the 
divisions  and  various  proofs  of  the  author  clearly  in 
our  mind  ;  we  proceed  to  consider  how  he  amplifies 
and  embellishes  these  primary  ideas  ;  ho^v  he  clothes 
this  skeleton  in  such  rich  and  beautiful  garments;  by 
"what  figures  of  speech,  and  by  what  strokes  of  ora- 
tory, he  renders  such  a  proof  so  telling  and  effective. 
A^'e  endeavour  to  penetrate  and  to  master  the  art  with 
which  he  applies  the  rules  and  precepts  of  rhetoric  to 
his  subject,  and,  thus,  perhaps,  we  shall  discoAcr,  to 
our  own  great  profit,  our  author's  happy  secret,  and 
what.it  is  which  enables  him  to  express  his  ideas  so 
powerfully  and  so  well.  In  order  to  fix  the  subject 
more  deeply  in  our  minds,  it  is  most  useful  occasion- 
ally to  make  a  written  analysis  of  the  matter  which 
we  are  reading;   considering — if  the  subject  of  our 


Remote  PREPARAxioiir  for  Preaching.        49 

§tudy  be  a  semion  or  other  formal  discourse — the  na- 
ture of  the  plan,  the  proofs  which  are  1)rought  for- 
ward in  support  of  the  leading  proposition  to  be  sus- 
tained, and  the  principal  oratorical  developments  of 
those  proofs.  This  habit  of  analyzing  what  we  read 
is  of  the  greatest  utility.  It  accustoms  us  to  a  spirit 
of  reflection;  it  familiarizes  us  with  order  and  method; 
whilst,  at  the  same  time,  it  engraves  deeply  on  our 
memory  the  most  striking  beauties  of  the  work  Ave 
are  perusing.  Several  of  the  most  successful  writers 
■with  whom  we  are  acquainted,  Avere,  in  their  youth, 
assiduous  in  the  practice  of  thus  analyzing  the  matter 
which  they  read. 

3.  In  his  choice  of  Ijooks  the  young  student  must 
distrust  his  OA^•n  judgment,  and  defer  to  that  of  men 
Avho  are  his  elders  in  }'ears,  and  his  superiors  in 
knoAvledge  and  Avisdom.  It  does  not  foUoAv  because  a 
book  is  popular  that,  therefore,  it  is  a  good  model  on 
Avliich  to  form  one's  style.  Many  of  the  most  popu- 
lar works  of  the  present  day  are  about  the  last  Avliich 
a  student  should  take  up  for  this  purpose.  Let  him 
apply  his  mind  to  the  study  of  such  Avorks  alone  as 
have  been  consecrated  l)y  the  verdict  of  ages,  or  placed 
in  the  fii-st  rank  by  the  decided  and  unvarying  judg- 
ment of  those  who  are  best  qualified  to  guide  public 
opinion.  Too  many  books  is,  perhaps,  owe  of  the 
greatest  evils  of  our  age,  and  noAV,  more  than  ever,  it 
4 


50        Eemote  Preparation  for  Preachin^g. 

is  necessary  for  the  student  to  apply  the  old  precept, 
JVbyi  mulla,  sed  multum*  to  his  reading. 

Amongst  the  worlds  to  which  he  will  direct  his  at- 
tention, the  Holy  Scriptures  most  certainly  hold  the 
first  place.  For  boldness  of  thought,  for  grandeur 
of  conception,  and  sul^limity  of  style,  the  books  of 
the  Old  Testament  are  not  to  be  approached.  It  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  remark  that  it  is  generally  ad- 
mitted that  most  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament 
were  written  in  verse,  or  in  some  kind  of  measured 
numbers.  The  general  construction  of  the  Hebrew 
poetry  is  very  singular.  Each  period  or  vei-se  is  di- 
vided into  correspondent,  and  generally  equal  num- 
bers, which  answer  to  one  another  botli  in  sense  and 
ui  sound.  In  the  first  member  of  the  verse  some  sen- 
timent is  expressed.  In  the  second  memljer  the  same 
seuiiment  is  amplified,  or  repeated  in  difterent  terms, 
or  perhaps  contrasted  with  its  opposite;  but  always  in 
such  manner  that  the  same  structure  is  preserved, 
and  generally,  nearly  the  same  number  of  words. 
Instances  of  this  occur  everywhere  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament. Let  us  take  the  95tli  Psalm  as  an  exemplifi- 
cation of  our  meaning  : — 

First  Memher.  Second  Memder. 

SiBg  ye  to  the  Lord  a  new  canticle.  Sing  to  the  Lord  all  the  earth. 

Sing  ye  to  the  Lord  aud  bless  his  Show  forth  his  salvation  from 

name.  day  to  day. 

*  Plin.,  Jun.  lib.  vii,  c.  xi. 


Eemote  Preparation  for  Preachixo.       51 

Declare  his  gluiy  among  the  Gen-    His  wonders  among  all  peopU;. 

tiles. 
For  the  Lord  is  great  and  exceed-    He  is  to  be  feared  above  all 

ingly  to  be  praised.  gods. 

Praise  and  beauty  are  before  him.     Holiness   and   majesty  iu    his 

sanctuary. 

^yQ  may  clearly  deduce  the  reason  for  this  form  of 
composition  from  the  manner  in  which  the  Hebrews 
were  accustomed  to  sing  their  sacred  hymns.  These 
liyinns  Avere  performed  by  alternate  bands  of  singers 
and  musicians.  For  instance,  one  band  began  the 
hymn,  "The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice," 
whereupon  the  chorus,  or  alternate  band,  took  up  the 
corresponding  verse,  "  Let  the  multitude  of  the  isles 
be  glad  thereof."  We  have  ventured  to  say  that  the 
Ileljrew  poetry  is  unapproachal)le  in  its  grandeur  and 
sublimity.  What  more  magnificent  than  the  language 
of  the  23rd  Psalm,  which  ^ye  may  take  as  an  example, 
and  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  composed  on  the 
occasion  of  brino;ino;  back  the  Ark  of  tbe  Covenant 
to  ]Mount  Zion.  The  whole  people  are  following  in 
devout  procession.  They  begin  to  ascend  the  sacred 
mount,  when  the  voices  of  some  choristers  are  heard, 
asking  "  Who  shall  ascend  into  the  mountain  of  the 
Lord,  or  who  shall  stand  in  his  holy  place  ?  "  With 
a  burst  of  jubilant  harmony  the  entire  body  respond, 
"  The  innocent  iu  hands  and  the  clean  of  heart."  As 
they  approach  the  doors  of  the  tabernacle  we  haxa 
another  bui-st  of  triumph  and  praise  :  "  Lift  up  your 
heads,  ye  princes;  and  be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting 


53        Eemote  Pkepaeation  por  Peeaching. 

gates;  and  the  King  of  Gloiy  shall  come  in."  Here 
ao-ain  we  have  the  semi-chorus  askino- :  "  Who  is  this 
King  of  Gloiy  ?  "  to  which,  as  the  ark  is  introduced 
into  the  tabernacle,  the  answer  is  given  in  another 
shout  of  triumphant  jubilee  :  "  The  Lord,  strong  and 
mighty;  the  Lord,  mighty  in  battle." 

The  sacred  poetry  is  distinguished  by  the-  strength 
and  conciseness  of  its  style  ;  and  we  may  safely  say 
that  no  other  work  so  abounds  with  bold  and  life-like 
figures.  It  is  alive,  to  use  a  homely  expression,  with 
metaphors,  comparisons,  allegories,  and  personifica- 
tions. The  pas-toral  habits  of  the  Hebrew  people  and 
the  peculiar  nature  of  their  country,  its  trees  and  flow- 
ers, its  mountains  and  valleys,  its  long  periods  of 
drouo-ht,  and  the  almost  mao-ical  influence  of  its  fer- 
tilizing  showers,  its  earthquakes  and  tempests,  its 
whirlwinds  and  darkness,  are  all  brought  into  play  in 
the  sacred  poetry,  and  with  an  imagery  that  is  natural 
and  expressive  in  the  highest  measure.  Hence  the 
magnificent  figure  in  which  Isaiah  describes  the  earth 
"  realing  to  and  fro,  like  a  drunkard;  "  as,  also,  the 
appearance  of  the  Almighty  described  in  Psalm  17.  / 

The  style  of  the  poetical  books  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  beyond  that  of  all  others  fervid  and  bold.  It 
cannot  be  compared  with  the  efi'usions  of  even  the 
most  gifted  of  merely  human  poets.  It  is  often  irreg- 
ular, and  often  abrupt.  Sometimes  its  connexion  is 
obscure,   and  its   figures   heaped   upon   one   another 


Remote  Pkeparation  for  Preachin^g.        53 

almost  to  confusion;  still,  there  is  but  one  word  which 
expresses  its  character.  It  is  sublime.  Sublimity  is 
its  characteristic.  Other  poetry  may  be  elegant,  may 
be  polished,  may  even  burn  with  passion,  but  the 
poetry  has  yet  to  be  written  which  approaches,  even 
within  an  infinite  distance,  to  the  sublimity  of  the 
poetry  of  Holy  Writ;  and  we  can  best  understand 
this  when  we  reflect  that  the  poetiy  of  the  Scriptures 
is  the  burst  of  inspiration,  the  language  of  men  who 
are  endeavouring  to  express,  as  far  as  human  language 
can  express  them,  the  burning  thoughts,  the  sublime 
conceptions,  the  grand  ideas,  which  have  been  born 
of  God. 

Not  only  do  the  sacred  wi'itings  abound  in  the 
highest  exemplifications  of  all  that  renders  poetry 
sublime  and  beautiful,  but  they  also  aftbrd  us  choice 
examples  of  the  different  kinds  of  poetical  composi- 
tion. The  book  of  Proverbs,  and  that  of  Ecclesiastes, 
are  striking  examples  of  the  didatic  species  of  poetry. 
The  lamentation  of  David  over  his  friend  Jonathan, 
as  also  over  his  unfortunate  sou  Absolom,  are  speci- 
mens of  elegiac  poetry,  as  tender  and  plaintive  as  were 
ever  penned;  whilst  the  book  of  the  Lamentations  of 
Jeremiah  is  prol)ably  the  most  perfect  elegiac  compo- 
sition in  the  world.  The  Canticle  of  Canticles  is  a 
beautiful  example  of  pastoral  poetry,  Avhilst  the  Old 
Testament  is  full  of  specimens  of  lyric  poetry — that 
is,  of  compositions  intended  to  be  sung  with  music. 


54    Eemote  Peepaeatioj^  foe  Peeachixg. 

Besides  the  song  of  jNIoses,  of  Deborah,  aiul  many 
others,  the  whole  book  of  the  Psalms  may  be  consid- 
ered as  a  collection  of  sacred  odes,  exhibiting-  that 
form  of  composition  in  all  its  varied  and  most  striking 
forms. 

Our  space  will  not  permit  iis  to  enter  into  an  exami- 
nation of  the  characteristics  of  the  style  of  the  various 
sacred  writers,  but  we  cannot  pass  from  this  suljject 
Avithout  particularly  calling  the  attention  of  the  stu- 
dent to  the  majestic  and  unparalleled  grandeur  of  the 
compositions  of  the  Prophet  Isaiah.  Majesty,  truly, 
is  the  characteristic  of  his  style.  In  the  grandeur  of 
his  conceptions,  and  the  wonderful  power  with  which 
he  expresses  them,  he  stands  alone;  and  we  can  read- 
ily conceive  what  is  related  of  Bossuet — viz.,  that  he 
never  sat  down  to  compose  without  previously  reading 
a  chapter  of  this  prophet,  after  ^ve  have  heiird  Lamar- 
tine's  account  of  the  impression  which  Avas  made  upon 
him  l:)y  the  Scriptures  even  in  his  childish  days.* 

"  Tlie  Blhle,  and  above  all  the  poetical  portions  of  ' 
Holy  Writ,  struck  as  if  with  lightning,  and  dazzled 
the  eyes  of  the  child;  he  fancied  that  he  saw  the  liv- 
ing tire  of  Sinai,  and  heard  the  voice  of  Omnipotence 
re-echoed  b}-  the  rocks  of  Horeb.  liis  God  was  Jeho- 
vah; his  lawgiver,  Moses;  his  high-priest,  Aaron;  his 
poet,  Isaiah;  his  country,  Judtea.  The  vivacity  of 
his  imagination,  the  poetical  bent  of  his  genius,  the 
*  "Memoirs  of  Celebrated  Characters,"  by  Lainartiue. 


Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching.        55 

auulog}-  of  Ills  d:sp(xsiti()ii  to  that  of  the  Orientals, — 
the  fervid  nature  of  the  people  and  ages  described, 
the  sublimity  of  the  lanuiiage,  the  cverlaatiiig  novelty 
of  the  histoi'}',  the  grandeur  of  the  laws,  the  piercing 
eloquence  of  the  hymns,  and  finally,  the  ancient,  con- 
secrated, and  traditionally  reverential  character  of  the 
book,  transformed  Bossuet  at  once  into  a  biblical  en- 
thusiast. The  metal  was  malleable;  the  impression 
was  received,  and  remained  indeli1)ly  stamped.  This 
child  became  a  prophet :  such  he  was  born,  such  he 
was  as  he  grew  to  manhood,  lived,  and  died — the  bible 
transfused  into  a  man." 

As  Isaiah  is  the  most  sublime,  so  David  is  the  most 
pleasing  of  the  sacred  poets,  -whilst  Job  is  distin- 
guished by  his  powers  of  description.  We  have 
spoken  at  some  little  length  of  the  beauties  of  the 
sacred  wi'itings,  because  we  liiiow  no  other  work  which 
can  l)e  of  such  service  to  the  student  in  storing  his 
mind  with  the  grandest  conceptions  which  have  ever 
been  expressed  in  words.  We  know  not  where  he 
will  acquire  such  true  and,  at  the  same  time,  such 
magnificent  ideas  of  the  majesty  of  God,  as  those 
which  are  given  by  Isaiah  and  Job,  by  Moses  and 
Baruch;  where  he  will  find  an\1:hing  half  so  sweet,  so 
tender  and  pathetic,  as  the  exhortations  of  Moses  to 
the  Israelites;  or  where  he  will  discover  such  a  per- 
fect blending  of  simplicity  of  style  with  grandeur  of 
conception  as  in  the  discourses  of  our  Lord  Jesus 


56        Remote  Prepaeation  for  Preaching. 

Christ,  as  related  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  whei*e 
the  Divinity  seems  to  be  sensibly  present  in  every 
Avord. 

It  is  impossible  to  read  the  sacred  writings  with 
reverent  and  stndious  attention  without  havino;  the 
mind  elevated  and  enlarged,  the  imagination  devel- 
oped and  cultivated,  and,  above  all,  the  heart  moved 
with  the  deepest  and  the  holiest  emotions.  If  we 
read  the  Scriptures  cai'efuUy  and  constantly,  we  begin 
by  degrees  to  acquire  the  Scriptural  tone  of  thought, 
and  to  find  a  facility  in  the  use  of  Scriptural  language. 
We  begin  to  clothe  om*  ovm  poor  ideas  in  the  language 
of  Scripture,  and  the}^  at  once  become  subhme. 

The  style  which  has  been  foniied  upon,  and,  so  too 
speak,  consecrated  by  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, gives  an  unction  to  our  discourse  which  renders 
it  efficacious  beyond  our  fondest  hopes.  As  we  can- 
not read  those  sacred  pages  without  feeling  a  love  for 
Siuictity  and  truth,  without  feehng  a  desire  to  become 
better  men,  so,  if  we  have  read  them  until  our  stj-le  is 
formed  upon  them,  and  our  hearts  impregnated  with 
their  spirit,  we  shall  speak  with  a  power,  at  once 
sweet  and  efficacious,  which  we  can  derive  from  no 
other  source.  What  it  is  that  gives  their  force  and 
charm  to  the  writings  of  St.  Bernard,  and  causes  us  to 
regard  them  almost  as  if  they  were  inspired,  but  the 
fact  that  they  are  full  to  overflowing  with  the  Holy 
Scriptures  ?     The  Saint  had  studied  the  Sacred  Writ- 


Eemote  Preparation  for  Preachiistg.        57 

ings  until  he  Avas  thoroughly  imbued,  not  only  with 
their  train  of  thought,  but  also  with  their  mode  of 
expression;  and,  in  proportion  as  we,  in  our  humble 
measure  and  degree,  imitate  him  in  our  devout  study 
of  the  same  holy  book,  shall  we  approach  to  the 
beauty  of  his  style,  to  the  unction  of  his  language,  and 
to  his  influence  over  the  hearts  and  wills  of  our  fellow- 
men,  in  leading  them  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  the 
end  and  aim  of  all  our  study  and  of  all  our  preacliing. 
Great  advantage  may  be  derived  by  the  student  of 
sacred  eloquence  from  a  judicious  perusal  of  the  writ- 
ings of  the  Holy  Fathers.  At  the  same  time  it  is 
probable  that  but  few  Avill  have  the  opportunity,  or 
perhaps  the  inclination,  to  devote  much  time  to  this 
study.  Amongst  the  Greek  Fathers,  the  writings  of 
St.  Chrysostom,  St.  Basil,  and  St.  Gregory  Nazianzen; 
and,  amongst  the  Latins,  those  of  St.  Augustine  and 
St.  Bernard  will  probably  be  found  the  most  useful  in 
assisting  the  sacred  orator  to  form  his  style.  Roll  in 
remarks  that  any  one  who  possesses  the  homilies  of  St. 
Chrysostom,  and  the  sermons  of  St.  Augustine  upon 
the  Old  and  New  Testament,  is  amply  provided  wnth 
models  for  every  kind  of  sermon.  We  would  certainly 
wish  to  add  St.  Bernard  to  the  list,  since  the  devotion 
and  unction  which  breathe  through  all  his  writings, 
and  the  beauty  of  his  style,  render  his  works  of  ines- 
timable value  to  the  sacred  orator.  Striking  extracts 
fi-om  the  Fathers  may  be  found  in  the    Thesaurus 


58         Eemote  Pkepaeation  for  Peeaching. 

Pati'um,  but  it  is  better,  when  it  can  be  clone,  to  go  to 
the  original  sources  for  our  reading  on  this  head. 

In  the  space  at  our  disposal  it  is  obviously  impos- 
sible to  enter  into  a  critical  examination  of  those  works 
in  the  class  of  secular  literatin-e  which  may  be  consid- 
ered "standard,"  and  to  the  perusal  of  which  the  stu- 
dent may  safely  and  usefully  devote  his  attention. 
There  are  certain  works  which  the  most  learned  and 
cultivated  of  all  ages  have  nnanimously  concurred  in 
viewing  as  "  standard,"  and  to  this  judgment,  as  we 
have  already  remarked,  the  young  student  must  ha 
content  to  defer.  Amongst  these  works  is  Demos- 
thenes in  the  Greek,  and  Cicero  in  the  Latin.  A  per- 
son anxious  to  cultivate  his  style  could  scarcely  take 
a  more  eflectual  means  of  doing  so  than  b}''  carefully 
translatino;  the  orations  of  Cicero  into  oood  Enolish. 
As  regards  our  English  authors,  it  will  not,  perhaps, 
be  rash  to  assert  that  Siiakespeare  is  our  greatest  ex- 
ample of  whatever  is  beautiful  and  refined  in  thought, 
glowing  in  imagination,  and  strong  in  w^oixls.  In 
nervous  language — language  which  soars  immeasur- 
ably above  the  common-place  words  of  ordinary  men, 
Shakespeare  is  facile  princeps.  To  the  man  who 
aspires  to  acquire  a  nei"vous  style,  and  an  idiom  that 
shall  be  at  once  po^verful  and  pure,  we  say  unhesitat- 
ingly, let  him  study  the  Bible  and  Shakespeare;  and 
there  was  veiy  great  force  in  the  remark  made  by 
Archbishop  Sharp,  a  distinguished  dignitary  of  the 


Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching.        59 

Establisliiiiciit,  wlien  he  said,  "  There  are  two  books 
which  made  me  an  Archbishop,  and  they  were  the 
Bible  and  Shakespeare."  Amongst  the  writers  of  piu-e 
English  of  our  day,  we  know  no  one  who  holds  a 
higher  place  than  the  venerable  Dr.  Newman,  and  we 
know  no  works  which  the  sacred  orator  can  peruse 
with  greater  profit  than  the  "  Occasional  Sermons," 
and  some  of  the  "  Discourses  to  ^Slixed  ConorcGa- 
tions,"  of  that  illustrious  author. 

The  perusal  of  poetiy  and  of  w^orks  of  fiction  is 
useful  within  certain  and  Avell-defined  limits.  The 
poetiy  must  be  good^  such  as  will  cultivate  the  imagi- 
nation without  sullying  it,  whilst  the  fiction  is  only 
useful  in  as  far  as  it  reveals  the  woikinirs  of  the  hu- 
man  heart,  and  is  true  to  life.  Anything  like  inditi- 
crimindte  reading  in  these  branches  of  literature  is 
attended  W'itli  so  many  dangers,  and  dangers  of  such 
deadly  nature  to  the  ecclesiastic,  that  the  student, 
more  especially  the  young  one,  will,  if'  he  be  W' Jse, 
altogether  mistrust  his  own  judgment  on  this  subject, 
and  be  guided  by  the  opinion  of  his  professor,  or 
some  other  discreet  person,  in  the  selection  of  such 
works  in  general  literature  as  it  may  be  useful  or  ex- 
pedient for  him  to  read.  Whatever  may  be  the  sub- 
•  ject  of  his  reading,  he  will  above  all  things  remember, 
that  he  is  reading  for  the  one  sole  end  of  preparing 
himself  to  be  a  worthy  ambassador  of  Christ;  that  he 
may  be  able  to  preach  the  Gospel  cum  oimii  im])erio, 


60  KeMOTE    PrEPARATIOX    for    PREACHIN"a. 

as  well  as  with  dignity  and  grace;  tliat,  b}'  tlie  wor- 
thy and  efficacious  use  of  the  great  instrument  which 
Christ  has  deigned  to  j^lace  in  his  unworthy  hands,  he 
may  not  only  lead  his  flock  into  the  joossessiou  of 
eternal  life,  but  also  to  the  attainment  of  a  high  de- 
gree of  glory  in  the  mansions  of  the  heavenly  Jerusa- 
lem.     Ut  vitam  Jiabeant,  et  abundantius  liaheant. 

SECTION  III. 

A   COLLECTION    OF  USEFUL    AND    STRIKING    MATTER. 

1.  Besides  forming  his  style,  there  is  another  very 
practical  result  which  the  student  ought  to  derive 
from  his  studies,  and  it  consists  in  making  a  collection, 

in  writing,  of  all  those  matters  which  he  hiis  found 

* 

most  striking,  or  best  adapted  for  his  object  as   a 

preacher,  in  the  course  of  his  reading.  Locos  sibi 
comparahit^  says  the  great  Saint  Charles,  quihiis  aadi- 
torum  animi  commoveri  solent  ad  amovem  Dei.  By 
making  a  note  of  those  matters  which  occur  to  us  in 
oiu'  reading  as  most  I'emarkable,  or  which  seem  to  us 
to  possess  the  greatest  power  of  pioving  the  heart  and 
influencing  the  Avill,  we  lay  up  for  ourselves  a  precious 
store  from  which  we  shall  be  able,  in  our  need,  to 
draw  abundant  materials  for  om-  sermons.  We  thus 
turn  to  account,  and  render  useful  for  all  our  future 
life,  the  pu1)lic  lectures  at  which  we  may  assist,  or  the 
course  of  private  study  and  reading  to  which  we  have 


Eemote  Prepakation  for  Preaching.        61 

devoted  our  attention.  In  this  way  nothing  is  k)st, 
but  evei'j'lhing  which  an  intelligent  precaution  deems 
fitting  for  such  a  purpose,  is  placed  in  reserve  for  fu- 
ture use.  Without  some  such  plan  we  shall  cei-tainly 
lose  the  fruit  of  the  greatest  part  of  our  reading,  and 
of  those  vivid  impressions  which  may  have  l)een  made 
upon  us.  At  the  time  we  are  composing  our  sermon 
we  very  often  remember  to  have  I'cad,  or  to  have  heard 
something  veiy  useful  upon  the  sulijcct  in  hand.  But 
what  was  it  ?  Where  did  we  hear  it,  or  in  what  work 
shall  we  find  it  ?  We  neglected  to  make  a  note  of  it 
at  the  time,  and,  now,  to  our  very  great  loss,  we  can- 
not recall  it  to  our  mind.  Perhaps,  too,  we  remem- 
l)er  to  have  been  deeply  moved  l)y  some  rellections 
"which,  years  ago,  \ve  made  upon  this  matter.  T/ien, 
we  could,  without  the  slightest  difficulty,  have  WTitten 
pages  upon  this  subject  which  would  have  been  full 
of  unction  and  warmth.  Now^  we  are  cold  and  with- 
out feeling.  JSfow,  we  are  in  absolute  poverty,  and 
we  would  give  a  good  deal  to  be  able  to  remember 
what  it  ^^'as  which  moved  us  so  much  in  those  former 
days,  when,  perhaps,  our  imagination  was  fresher, 
when  our  heart  was  warmer,  when  its  best  impulses 
were  more  easily  stirred.  But,  we  allowed  the  pre- 
cious thoughts  to  pass  away  without  making  note  or 
comment  on  them,  and,  so,  we  must  be  content  at 
present  to  put  up  with  our  poverty  and  indigence,  feel- 
iiig  all  the  while  that  we  allowed  a  great  means  of 


63        Kemote  Peepaeation"  for  Pee  aching. 

niovinof  the  hearts  of  our  fellow-men,  and  of  tliu? 
advanciuo-  the  interests  of  Him  whose  ambassadors  we 
are,  to  pass  away  without  turning  it  to  profit  or  aceomit. 

This  "  making  of  notes"  on  our  reading,  this  coUec- 
tiou  of  matter,  supposes  some  amount  of  labour,  and 
hence,  perhaps,  these  remarks  will  not  bear  inuch 
practical  fruit.  At  the  same  time  let  the  young  reader 
l)e  convinced  that,  if  he  is  to  attain  any  degree  of 
excellence  as  a  preacher,  it  will  only  be  by  the  same 
means  by  which  excellence  is  attained  in  every  other 
science  or  art,  a  good  deal  of  hard  study  and  of  hard 
labour.  If  he  is  to  reach  the  goal  he  must  fit  himself 
for  the  running.  If  he  is  to  carry  off  the  prize  he 
must  be  content  to  pay  the  price. 

We  have  the  authority  of  many  learned  and  holy 
men  on  this  point.  The  learned  Pope  Saint  Damasus 
regarded  as  so  much  lost  time  that  which  he  spent  in 
reading  of  which  he  did  not  take  notes.  Lectionem 
sine  stylo  somniam  puta.  The  great  St.  Charles,  the 
example  of  all  that  is  holy  and  becoming  in  an  eccle- 
siastic, had  an  immense  collection  of  "  notes,"  and  in 
the  preface  to  his  Homilies  he  confesses  that  they  were 
of  the  greatest  assistance  to  him  in  helping  him  to 
write  and  to  vary  his  instruction.  The  rules  of  the 
Society  of  Jesus,  so  full  of  the  deepest  and  most  prac- 
tical wisdom,  prescribe  this  collecting  of  matter  to 
preachers.  St.  Fi-ancis  Xavier,  one  of  the  most  illus- 
trious members  of  the  order,  thus  sj)eaks  on  this  point : 


Eemote  Preparation  for  Preaching.       63 

*  Be  assured,"  he  says,  "  that  what  we  commit  to  paper 
isiraprhited  more  deeply  on  the  mind  ;  the  very  trouble 
of  writing  it,  and  the  time  which  is  spent  in  doing  so, 
engrave  the  matter  on  the  memory.  Be  assured  too," 
he  continues,  "  that  even  those  matters  which  move 
us  most  deeply  are  very  soon  forgotten.  They  will 
leave  no  lasting  fruit  behind  them  if  we  do  not,  whilst 
our  ideas  are  still  fresh,  make  a  note  of  them,  so  that 
we  can  refresh  our  memory  with  them  when  necessity 
requires.  The  fruit  which  we  derive  from  a  perusal 
of  our  note-books  is  like  that  of  miners  who  come  again 
upon  some  vein  of  precious  metal  which  they  had  lost, 
and  which,  now  that  they  have  found  it,  they  work 
Avith  the  greatest  profit  and  advantage."  Words  as 
full  of  practical  wisdom  as  they  are  of  truth  ! 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  things  in  the  late  illus- 
trious and  gifted  Cardinal  Wiseman,  and  one  which 
caused  most  astonishment,  was  the  facility  with  which 
he  coidd,  at  very  short  notice,  and  with  an  amount  of 
information  and  depth  of  thought  which  were  truly 
surprising,  lecture  upon  almost  any  given  subject,  upon 
any  branch  of  science  or  art,  sacred  or  profane.  The 
fact  is  not  so  very  wonderful,  or,  to  speak  more  cor- 
rectly, it  is  more  easily  understood,  if  what  was  related 
to  us  be  true,  viz.,  that  from  his  earliest  years  he  was 
accustomed  to  read  with  pencil  in  hand,  making  notes 
as  he  went  along,  no  matter  what  might  be  the  subject 
of  his  reading,  of  everything  that  struck  him  as  worthy 


64        Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching. 

of  being  remembered.  In  this  way  he  collected  an 
immense  mass  of  materials,  which  his  powerful  intel- 
lect, his  great  grasp  of  mind,  and  his  command  of 
language,  enabled  him  to  turn  to  ready  account,  even 
on  the  shortest  notice.  Of  what  use  this  course  of 
studious  reading  enabled  him  to  be  to  his  fellow-men  ; 
what  dignity  it  added  to  his  olfice  ;  what  lustre  it  shed 
upon  his  Church  ;  and,  best  of  all,  what  glory  it 
brought  to  God,  we  shall  not  presume  to  say  ;  l)ut  we 
think  we  may  safely  venture  to  propose  hiui  to  the 
student  as  an  example  of  what  may  be  done  by  study, 
and  of  the  glorious  prize  which  may  be  gained  by  him 
who,  with  a  pure  intention  and  a  valiant  licai't,  does  not 
shrink  from  paying  the  price  of  it. 

2.  There  are  many  methods  of  taking  these  "  notes." 
Experience  will  probably  suggest  to  each  one  that 
which  suits  him  best.  M.  Hanion  of  S.  Sulpice,  in 
his  valuable  "  Traile  de  la  Predication^''^  throws  out 
the  followino-  useful  suggestions  : — 

1.  To  have  a  note  book,  and  at  the  top  of  each  page 
to  inscribe  some  heading  in  alphabetical  order,  as,  ex. 
gr.  Abstinence,  Baptism,  Charity,  etc.,  etc.  Under 
its  respective  heading  the  student  is  to  make  a  note 
of  whatever  he  may  meet  with  which  is  most  striking 
on  this  subject,  whether  he  comes  across  it  in  his  read- 
ino;,  hears  it  in  a  sermon,  or  from  whatever  source  he 
may  derive  his  information.  2.  If  the  student  think 
it  worth  his  while  to  make  notes  of  all  that  he  reads, 


Eemote  Preparation^  for  Preachistg.        65 

he  ought  to  have  one  l^ook  especially  set  aside  for  the 
insertion  of  notes  which  have  peculiar  reference  to 
preaching.  3.  There  is  no  necessity  for  writing  out  at 
full  length  passages  from  the  Scriptures  or  the  Fathers. 
It  is  loss  of  time  to  do  more  than  note  the  place  where 
they  may  be  found.  4.  We  should  make  notes  of 
those  matters  merely  which  are  specially  worthy  of 
being  remembered.  If  Ave  have  reason  to  fear  that  we 
have  been  led  away  by  a  false  brilliancy,  it  is  well  to 
wait  a  little  while,  and  to  i-econsider  the  matter  at  a 
cooler  moment,  before  we  make  a  note  of  it.  5.  When 
some  passage  or  reflection  Avhich  we  wish  to  note  moved 
us  in  a  particular  manner,  it  is  always  useful  to  profit 
by  this  moment  of  inspiration  to  commit  to  writing  the 
sentiments  by  which  we  were  affected,  and  the  practi- 
cal resolutions  which  we  took  in  consequence  of  them. 
We  are  never  so  eloquent  as  in  the  moments  when  we 
are  thus  penetrated  with,  and  full  of,  our  subject.  The 
lanoi;uao;e  of  such  moments  is  the  true  lano;uao;e  of  the 
heart,  and  it  will  not  fail  to  have  its  due  effect  when 
applied  to  our  fellow  men. 

The  lyiesaurus,  Biblicus,  the  27tesaiirus  Patrum, 
and,  perhaps  best  of  all,  the  Listructissima  Bibliotheca 
Manualis  Goncionatoria  of  Father  Lohner,  contain 
most  valuable  notes  on  subjects  useful  to  preachers, 
and  are  excellent  models  of  the  manner  in  which  to 
make  these  collections  of  materials.     Eveiy  one  should. 


66  EeMOTE   PrEPAEATIOX   for    PREACHIJfG. 

however,  strive  to  collect  matter  for  himself.  Nothing 
will  be  so  useful  to  him  as  that  which  is  the  fruit  of 
his  own  labour,  which  is  the  reflection  of  his  turn  of 
thought  and  of  the  temper  of  his  mind,  which  is,  in 
one  word,  his  own. 

SECTION  IV. 

THE    PRACTICE  OF   COMPOSITION. 

By  a  course  of  studious  reading,  and  a  diligent 
"  noting"  of  whatever  strikes  us  as  most  remarkable, 
we  do  much  towards  forming  our  style,  as  well  as 
towards  laying  np  that  fund  of  knowledge  which  is 
absolutely  necessary  fpr  him  who  is  to  be  a  successful 
speaker.  But  it  is  not  sufficient  to  read  much.  It  is 
still  more  essential  for  him  who  aspires  to  acquire  a 
good  style,  and  a  correct  and  elegant  manner  of  expres- 
sing himself,  to  write  much.  Caput  est,  says  Cicero 
treating  of  this  matter,  quamplwimum  serihere* 

The  advantage  of  frequent  composition  can  scarcely 
be  overrated.  It  is  quite  possible  for  him  who  has 
once  learnt  how  to  write  well,  and  who  has,  by  prac- 
tice in  composition,  acquired  a  fticility  of  expressing 
himself  with  correctness  and  elegance,  to  become  a 
good  extempore  preacher.  We  venture  to  say  that 
he  who  has  not  first  learnt  how  to  wi'ite  well,  will 
hardly  ever,  if  ever,  become  a  really  good  speaker. 
*  De  Oral.  lib.  i.,  c.  xxxiii. 


Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching.        67 

He  may  acquire  a  certain  fluency,  but  he  will  seldom 
attain  that  degree  of  grammatical  correctness,  and 
that  measure  of  polish  and  elegance,  which  mark  the 
man  of  education,  and  which  his  flock  and  the  Church 
have  a  right  to  expect  in  the  preacher  of  the  Gospel. 
Hence  it  is,  that  in  the  coui-se  of  studies  through  which 
we  put  the  young  aspirants  to  the  sacred  ministiy,  we 
insist  so  much  upon  this  practice  of  composition,  upon 
the  wiiting  of  sermons.  We  do  so  because  we  are 
most  deeply  convinced  that  we  can  never  prepare  those 
who  have  been  entrusted  to  us  as  a  precious  charge  to 
be  trained  for  the  AV'Ork  of  the  sacred  ministry — those 
who,  as  they  are  now  the  objects  of  our  dearest  aspira- 
tions and  our  highest  hopes,  are,  hereafter,  to  be  our 
glory  and  our  crown — to  speak  well  in  the  future, 
unless  we  first  teach  them  how  to  write  well.  And, 
if  this  were  merely  our  own  opinion,  it  might  not  be 
of  much  weight.  It  has  been  the  opinion  of  all,  who 
from  Aristotle  and  Cicero  downwards,  have  been  most 
competent  to  speak  on  this  point. 

By  the  practice  of  careful  composition  not  only  do 
we  discover  our  faults,  whether  of  grammar  or  of  style, 
but,  whilst  we  force  ourselves  to  correctness  and  pre- 
cision, we  also  gain  the  clearest  insight  into  our  own 
minds,  and  discover  the  treasures  which  may,  per- 
chance, be  hidden  there.  A  man,  at  all  events  a  yoimg 
man,  never  knows  what  is  really  in  his  mind,  the  extent 
of  his  knowledge,  the  logical  connection  of  his  ideas, 


68        Remote  Peepaeation"  foe  Peeachin-g. 

the  force  of  his  reasoning  powei*s,  the  depth  of  his 
sympathies  and  emotions,  until  he  begins  to  write. 
Under  whatever  aspect  he  may  view  the  practice  of 
composition,  whether  as  a  means  of  acquiring  mere 
correctness,  of  attaining  elegance  and  beauty  of  style, 
or,  of  educating  and  developing  the  latent  powers  of 
his  mind  and  heai-t,  let  the  yomig  student  be  convinced 
that  the  words  of  Cicero  are  pregnant  with  wisdom  and 
truth,  Caput  est,  quamplurimum  scribere. 

It  is  difficult  to  lay  down  definite  rules  upon  this 
matter.  Practice,  under  the  eye  of  a  competent  pro- 
fessor, is  perhaps  the  most  efiicacious  means  of  advanc- 
ing :  but  we  venture  to  throw  out  a  few  practical 
hints  which  may  be  useful  to  those  who  do  not  enjoy 
this  privilege. 

1.  After  having  thoroughly  studied  and  dissected, 
by  means  of  analysis,  in  the  manner  described  at  page 
42,  the  compositicHi  of  some  standard  writer,  it  is  most 
useful,  whilst  our  mind  is  full  of  the  subject,  to  rewi'ite 
the  whole  matter,  and  then  compare  om-  production 
with  the  original  of  our  author.  There  is  scarcely  any 
exercise  which  is  more  useful  than  this  in  opening  the 
mind,  in  developing  and  cultivating  the  taste,  in  aftbrd- 
ing  us  a  practical  application  of  the  rales  and  precepts 
of  rhetoric,  and,  thus,  of  imprinting  them  most  deeply 
on  the  memory. 

2.  Another  method  of  composing,  more  simple  and 
perhaps  not  less  useful,  consists  in  reading  attentively 


Eemote  Preparatiost  for  Preaching.        69 

a  page  or  two  of  some  standard  writer,  aud  iu  such  a 
manner  jis  to  possess  his  principal  ideas.  Then,  laying 
aside  the  book,  the  student  endeavours  to  reproduce 
those  ideas  in  writinoj,  and  in  the  most  correct  lansruajre 
of  which  he  is  mjister.  He  eudeavoui-s  to  seize  the 
author's  form  of  expression,  his  grace,  his  precision 
and  strength,  the  figm-es  which  he  employs,  and  the 
turn  of  his  thoughts.  Taking  up  his  book  again,  he 
compares  his  page  or  two  with  those  of  his  model. 
Thus,  easily  aud  without  much  labour,  he  discovei-s 
the  ftiults  of  his  own  composition,  and  the  particular 
in  which  he  has  failed  most ;  whilst  the  excellencies 
of  his  model  are  more  and  more  deeply  engraven  on 
his  mind.  Many  learned  men  counsel  us  to  endeavour 
to  express  in  our  own  language  the  most  beautiful  and 
strikmg  passages  of  Holy  writ,  of  the  Fathers,  and  of 
other  standard  authors.  The  efFoils  which  we  make 
to  render  our  original  correctly,  to  preserve  his  grace, 
his  colour,  and  his  form,  cause  us  to  do  our  utmost 
that  we  may  become  penetrated  with  his  beauty,  that 
we  may  think  and  speak  as  he  thinks  and  speaks, 
that  we  may  appropriate  (in  a  sense  to  be  presently 
explained)  his  st^de  and  his  turn  of  thought.  In  one 
word,  it  causes  us  to  wrestle,  so  as  to  speak,  with  om* 
model,  and,  in  this  wi'estling,  to  have  recourse  to  all 
the  resources  which  language  affords  us ;  and,  thus, 
after  a  little  time,  we  acquire  a  fecundity  of  ideas,  and 
a  facility  of  expression,  which  probably  astonish  even 


70        Kemote  Peeparatiok  for  Preaching. 

ourselves.  Cicero  tells  iis  that  the  most  effective  means 
which  he  employed  in  his  study  of  eloquence  consisted 
in  translating  some  of  the  choicest  morsels  of  the  great 
Grecian  orators  into  his  own  language.  This  exercise 
is  indeed  most  useful,  but  we  must  take  great  care  to 
choose  a  good  model,  otherwise  we  nm  the  risk  of 
spoiling  our  style  instead  of  foraiing  it. 

The  imitation  of  good  models,  whether  in  writing 
or  in  speaking,  is  of  the  highest  utility.  Good  models 
inspire  us  with  ardour,  emulation,  and  a  keen  desire 
of  excellence.  According  to  Quintilian,  a  great  part 
of  art  is  placed  in  the  imitation  of  good  models,  in  dis- 
covering what  is  most  perfect  in  them,  in  penetrating 
the  abundance  and  the  riches  of  their  compasitions, 
the  variety  of  their  figures,  and  the  general  charac- 
teristics of  their  style ;  but  whilst  it  is  true  that  a 
preacher  may  do  much  towards  forming  his  style  by 
a  judicious  imitatiou  of  good  and  gi-eat  models,  it  is 
equally  true  that  this  imitation,  whether  of  writers  or 
speakei-s,  is  full  of  danger,  and  requires  a  very  great 
deal  of  discretion  in  its  use. 

In  the  first  place,  mere  imitation  is  worse  than  use- 
less, and  is  altogether  unworthy  of  a  man.  If  a  man 
is  ever  to  acquire  any  degi'ee  of  excellence  as  a  preacher, 
it  must  be  by  developing  what  is  his  own,  and  not  l)y 
the  slavish  imitation  of  any  other  person.  We  have 
already  said  that  every  man  of  mind  thinks  and 
expresses  himself,  to  some  extent,  in  a  manner  which 


Remote  Prepaeation  fob  Preaching.        71 

is  peculiarly  his  own.  A  nuin  will  be  a  great  man 
just  in  proportion  as  ho  is,  in  this  sense,  an  original 
man.  At  the  same  time,  there  is  no  genius  so  origi- 
nal that  it  may  not  be  profited  by  the  aid  of  good 
examples  in  composition,  style,  and  delivery. 

But,  in  our  imitation  of  good  models,  it  is  above  all 
things  necessary  to  preserve  and  carefully  cultivate 
whatever  we  may  have  in  ourselves  that  is  original  and 
peculiarly  our  own.  Each  one  has  his  own  peculiai 
charasteristic  which  distinguishes  him  from  others. 
Each  one  has  his  own  manner  of  conceiving  a  subject, 
of  revolving  it  in  his  mind,  and  of  giving  expression 
to  his  thoughts  and  sentiments  ;  and  the  greatest  men 
haTe  only  attained  their  respective  degrees  of  perfec- 
tioi  by  developing  their  own  characteristic  qualities, 
by  «ultivating  that  speciality  which  nature  has  given 
then,  and  by  turning  it  to  the  very  best  account. 

It  is  a  grand  secret  to  know  ourselves,  and  to  adopt 
our  ityle  to  our  speciality.  We  do  not  study  good 
modds  in  order  that  we  may  steal  from  them  what  is 
pecuiarly  theirs,  and  what  may  be  in  nowise  suited 
eithei  to  our  temperament  or  our  style  ;  but  we  study 
them  in  order  that  we  may  derive  from  their  more 
matuBd  experience,  and  their  greater  excellence,  the 
means  of  developing  in  ourselves  those  peculiar  quali- 
ties "wiich  they  may  seem  to  share,  to  some  extent, 
with  13.  In  this  sense,  we  endeavour  to  appropriate 
whatever  we  consider  most  excellent  in  them,  by  mak- 


73        Eemote  Pkeparation  for  Preachikg. 

ing  it  our  owii.     Such  imitation  is  certain  to  open 
some  new  ideas,  certain  to  enlarge  and  purity  our  own, 
to  give  new  vigour  to  the  current  of  our  thoughts,  and 
greater  depth  to  the  emotions  of  our  heart.    We  behold, 
for  example,  certain  iDeculiar  qualities  in  a  great  ora- 
tor, and  we  feel  that  we  possess  the  same,  but,  with 
this  difference,  that  he  possesses  them  in  a  higher  degi'ee, 
and  expresses  them  with  more  power  than  we  are  able 
to  do.     We  endeavour  to  penetrate  his  secret,  and  to 
discover  the  source  of  his  excellence.     Having  donfe 
so,  we  strive,  not  to  steal  what  is  his,  but  to  make  it 
our  own  ;  and,  by  transferring  it  to  our  own  souls,  to 
cause  it  to  aid  us  in  developing  and  raising  to  ine 
highest  degree  of  peifection  our  peculiar  and  chaiac- 
teristic  qualities ;  those  qualities,  be  they  of  heaq  or 
of  heart,  of  cold  logic  or  of  warm  sympathies  and  c^ep 
emotions,  which  distinguish  us  from  other  men  ;  tlose 
special  qualities  and  characteristics  whose  cultivation 
is  to  be  the  foundation  of  whatever  degree  of  greainess 
or  excellence  we  are  to  attain.         ,  i 

It  is,  then,  of  the  last  importance  to  discover  our 
peculiar  gift,  our  peculiar  turn  of  mind  ;  to  fini  out 
whether  we  are  most  moved  to  act  upon  our  fjllow- 
men  through  reason  or  through  feeling  ;  to  ascirtain 
whether  our  pecuhar  forte  lies  in  ai'gument  or  ii  pas- 
sion, and  to  make  all  our  oratorical  studies,  aid  all 
our  imitation  of  great  models,  tend  to  the  one  so^  end, 
the  cultivation  of  our  peculiar  gift,  whatever  it  nay  be. 


Eemote  Preparation  foe  Preaching.       73 

If  we  mistake  it,  or,  if  we  devote  ourselves  to  the  culti- 
vation of  any  other  than  our  own  proper  talent,  we 
shall  never  rise  to  greatness,  we  shall  never  attain  that 
degi-ee  of  excellence  which  the  dignity  of  the  pulpit 
demands  at  our  hands. 

If  we  have  received  the  gift  of  "  convincing"  by  deep 
and  logical  argument,  it  would  be  a  great  mistake  to 
quit  this  style  in  order  to  cultivate  that  of  him  whose 
excellence  lies  in  his  wanii  and  brilliant  imagination. 
If  we  have  received  a  great  power  of  "  moving,"  and 
of  stirring  the  hearts  of  men,  it  would  be  a  fatal  eiTor 
to  strive  after  the  style  of  the  grave  theologian  who 
attains  his  end  by  severe  reasoning  and  dry  dissei-ta- 
tion.  He  who  is  able  to  speak  well,  so  long  as  he  con- 
lines  himself  to  simplicity  of  style  and  of  matter,  must 
be  content  with  that  degree  of  perfection  which  is 
marked  out  for  him,  and  not  seek  to  attain  heights 
which  are  beyond  his  reach.  How  many  ecclesiastics 
throw  away  the  real  talent  which  they  possess  in  their 
vain  efforts  to  acquire  some  degree  of  excellence  which 
is  above  their  grasp,  and  to  which  they  are  not  called. 
How  many,  whose  success  would  have  been  complete 
if  they  had  confined  themselves  to  familiar  instruc- 
tions^ have  rendered  themselves  useless,  perhaps  ridic- 
ulous, in  their  efforts  to  preach  grand  sermons.  How 
many,  in  aspiring  to  become  orators,  without  having 
been  born  for  it,  have  ended  by  becoming  mere  de- 
claimers.     Such  as  these  may  fitly  apply  to  themselves 


74        Remote  Prepakation  for  Preachikg. 

the  words  of  David  when  he  had  clothed  himself  in 
the  armour  of  Saul,  non  possum  incedere  quia  usum 
non  habeo*  If  we  are  called  to  do  battle  for  God 
with  the  heavy  weapons  of  Saul,  let  us  gird  them  on, 
and  use  them  like  men.  If  we  are  not,  let  us  be  con- 
tent to  wage  our  war  in  a  more  humble  way.  Like 
David,  we  may  gain  a  victory  by  means  of  the  simple 
pebble,  w^hich  would  never  have  graced  our  arms  if 
we  had  striven  to  fight  with  the  sword  of  Saul. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  it  is  never  law- 
ful to  copy.  We  may  lawfully,  and  often  usefully, 
boiTow  the  ideas  and  the  proofs  of  a  Amter;  but,  be- 
fore employing  them,  we  must  make  them  our  own 
l)y  studying  them  so  deeply  that  at  length  we  conceive 
them  in  our  own  way,  and  express  them  in  our  own 
words,  and  in  our  own  peculiar  style.  He  who  uses 
the  words  of  another,  without  stating  whence  he  bor- 
rows them,  is  simply  a  pirate.  If  he  does  so  habitu- 
ally, he  takes  the  most  effectual  means  he  could  devise 
of  betraying  his  own  want  of  genius,  or,  if  he  really 
possess  any,  of  destroying  it.  It  will  be  well  if  he  do 
not  end  by  making  himself  licliculous,  and  by  bring- 
ing disgrace  upon  himself  and  his  ministry.  As  we 
have  said,  no  two  men  thiuk  alike.  If  this  be  true,  it 
follows  pretty  evidently,  that  no  man  can  express  him- 
self naturally  in  another  man's  words.  The  preacher 
who  is  not  natural  will  hardly  escape  being  ridiculous. 
*  Reg.  xvii,  19. 


Remote  Preparation  for  Preaching.        75 

We  have  dwelt  at  some  length  on  this  matter  of 
remote  preparation,  because,  having  had  some  consid- 
erable experience  in  training  young  men  for  the  worlv 
of  the  ministiy,  we  have  had  many  practical  proofs 
of  its  necessity;  because  we  have  had  to  contend  with 
the  almost  insuperable  difficulties  which  have  met  us 
when  it  has  been  wanting ;  and,  because  we  believe 
and  know  it  to  be  the  foundation  of  ;uiy  real  excel- 
lence which  the  Christian  preacher  may  attain. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PROXIMATE  PREPARATIO]S^  FOR  PREACHIifG. 

E  now  proceed  to  consider  the  proximate 
preparation  for  preaching,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  actual  composition  of  our  ser- 
mon. We  shall  divide  this  part  of  our 
sul)ject  into  two  great  leading  heads.  The  first  will 
contain  four  sections ;  I.  The  choice  of  a  suliject. 
11.  The  due  consideration  and  meditation  of  that  sub- 
ject. III.  The  arrangement  of  our  matter  by  means 
of  the  plan  of  our  discourse,  including,  IV.  Some 
remarks  on  Unity.  The  second  will  treat  of  the  vari- 
ous pails  or  members  of  a  discourse,  w^ith  the  revision, 
and,  method  of  olrtaining  an  expedite  "  possession " 
of  what  we  have  composed. 

SECTION  I. 

THE    CHOICE    OF   A    SUBJECT. 

It  is  very  important  to  make  a  good  selection  of 
the  subject  on  which  we  intend  to  preach.  The  sub- 
ject is  the  foundation  of  our  discourse,  and  imless  the 
materials  of  that  fomidation  be  discreetly  chosen  and 


Proximate  Preparatiok^  for  Preaching.     77 

well  adapted  to  their  purpose,  the  editicc  will  scarcely 
be  either  soimd  or  pleasing.  As  an  ordinary  rule,  the 
subject  of  his  Sunday's  sermon  will  be  marked  out  to 
the  pastor,  either  by  the  Gospel  of  the  day,  the  recur- 
rence of  a  great  festival,  or,  by  some  peculiar  circum- 
stance in  his  parish,  as  the  prevalence  of  a  certain 
vice,  etc.,  etc.  However,  whatever  be  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  may  be  placed,  there  are  certain 
practical  rules  to  be  observed  in  the  selection  of  his 
^subject,  and  the  mamier  in  which  he  will  treat  it. 

1.  He  must  not  allow  himself  to  be  influenced  by 
self  love  in  the  choice  of  his  subject.  Self-love  will 
be  sure  to  suggest  those  subjects  which  admit  of  the 
most  display  and  of  the  highest  flights  of  oratoiy. 
The  true  pastor  of  souls  will  rather  be  influenced  by 
the  thought  of  what  will  be  most  useful  to  his  flock, 
and  he  will  select  those  subjects  which  he  deems  most 
conducive  to  their  salvation,  those  subjects  by  which 
he  can  most  easily  instnict,  move,  and  convert  his  peo- 
ple, since  this  is  the  end  of  his  preaching.  As  a 
natural  consequence,  he  mil  take  the  greatest  care  to 
adapt  his  subject  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  his 
flock,  to  their  wants,  their  dispositions,  their  capacit}', 
their  prejudices,  the  time  and  place  in  which  he  ad- 
dresses them.  It  is  evident  that  no  discourse  can  be 
of  any  lasting  service  unless  it  be  thus  adapted  to  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  the  congiegation  to  which 
it  is  addressed. 


78     Peoximate  Peepaeatioit  foe  Peeachi]s^g. 

2.  Amongst  many  subjects  which  would  be  useful, 
he  will  always,  when  the  selection  is  in  his  hands, 
choose  that  which  he  deems,  omnibus  jpensatis,  the 
most  useful  to  the  majority  of  his  congregation.  Such 
subjects  are  the  Four  Last  Things,  the  Sacraments, 
the  Commandments  of  God  and  his  Church,  and  all 
those  great  leading  truths  of  our  faith  which  essen- 
tially interest  all  men  at  all  times.  He  can  never 
preach  too  often  on  the  great  evil  of  sin  and  its  tei-ri- 
ble  chastisements  in  this  world  and  in  the  next;  onf 
the  madness  of  those  who  are  restrained  from  vice 
neither  by  the  judgments  of  God,  the  eternal  suffer- 
ings of  hell,  nor  the  loss  of  heaven;  on  the  benefits  of 
redemption;  on  the  dignity  of  a  Christian;  on  the  ob- 
ligation of  forgiving  injuries,  and  of  flying  the  occa- 
sions of  sin;  on  the  obligation  of  prayer,  its  advantages, 
and  the  conditions  required  to  render  it  acceptable 
with  God;  the  duty  of  alms-giving;  the  crime  of  hu- 
man respect;  the  abuse  of  grace;  the  loss  of  time, 
etc.,  etc.  The  preacher  should  not  allow  himself  to 
be  restrained  from  preaching  on  these  subjects  by  the 
consideration  that  they  are  old  and  have  been  often 
treated  before.  The  man  who  is  truly  zealous,  and 
who  honestly  prepares  himself  for  his  work,  can  al- 
ways present  these  old,  indeed  these  eternal  truths,  in 
a  new  way;  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  full  of  interest  to 
those  who  are  to  secure  their  eternal  salvation  by  the 
practice  of  these  old  truths.      Let  him  remember, 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     79 

JVwi  dtbemus  dicere  nova,  sed  nove.  Let  him  be  con- 
Anuced,  too,  that  his  flock,  distracted  and  taken  up  as 
they  are  by  the  cares,  the  allurements,  and  the  sins  of 
the  world,  easily  forget  even  the  most  elementaiy 
truths.  Let  him  be  convinced  that  they  require,  the 
rich  as  well  as  the  poor,  those  who  are  well  up  in  the 
world's  knowledge  and  education  equally  with  the 
unlettered  and  the  ignorant,  to  be  frequently  instructed 
in  these  elementary  truths,  to  be  no  less  frequently 
admonished,  in  omni  patientia  ei  dodrina,  of  those 
obligations  and  duties  Avhich  flow  from  them. 

3.  Whilst  he  selects  those  subjects  which  he  deems 
most  useful  to  the  majority  of  his  flock,  Uie  discreet 
pastor  will,  as  for  as  circumstances  permit,  also  select 
those  which  are  best  adapted  to  his  o^vn  peculiar  style 
and  natural  talent.  If,  for  example,  he  have  a  pecu- 
liar power  of  moving  souls  through  the  consideration 
of  the  mercy  and  the  goodness  of  God,  he  will  seldom 
essay  to  speak  on  Hell  and  those  temble  subjects  in 
which  so  few  succeed,  and  which,  unless  they  are  pow- 
erfully handled,  are  perhaps  better  let  alone.  He  will 
also  avoid,  subjects  which  are  too  prolix,  and  which 
oblige  the  preacher  to  glance  at  many  matters  without 
really  or  thoroughly  entering  into  any  one. 

4.  Having  fixed  upon  his  subject,  the  preacher  will 
next  determine  the  peculiar  points  of  view  under 
which  it  will  be  most  useful  to  present  it  to  his  flock, 
the  practical  conclusions  to  be  urged  upon  them,  the 


80     Pkoximate  Peeparatio]^  for  Preaching. 

way  in  which  the  reform  of  such  a  vice,  or  the  prac- 
tice of  such  a  virtue,  is  to  be  brought  about.  The 
practice  of  virtue  is  sometimes  proposed  to  a  flock  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  mal?;e  it  appear  full  of  difficul- 
ties, disagreeable  and  repugnant;  whilst  it  might,  with 
a  little  more  trouble,  and  the  aid  of  a  little  more  dis- 
cretion, have  been  brought  before  their  eyes  as  infi- 
nitely reasonable  in  itself,  infinitely  beautiful  and 
grand,  infinitely  useful  to  those  who  faithfully  adopt 
it.  The  discreet  pastor  will  always  carefully  study 
how  he  may  present  it  in  this  latter  light  to  his  flock. 
For  this  end  he  Avill  examine  how  he  can  best  bring 
it  before  them  in  such  a  manner  as  to  suit  their  pres- 
ent dispositions;  the  aspect  of  the  question  which  will 
l)e  most  pleasing  to  them,  and  most  rea,dily  win  their 
acceptance  of  his  views.  Above  all  things,  he  will, 
from  the  first  moment  of  fixing  upon  his  sulvject,  be- 
gin to  ask  himself  that  question,  the  answer  to  which 
is  to  secure  the  unity  and  practical  usefulness  of  his 
discourse  :  ^V7ia(  is  it  that  I  am  going  to  ])ro])Ose  to 
my  congregation  ?  Wliat  am  I  about  to  ask  of  them  9 
By  what  means  do  I  expect  to  gain  my  end  '? 

SECTION  II. 

THE    MEDITATION    AND    CONCErTION   OF    OUR    SUBJECT. 

After  having  selected  our  subject,  and  determined 
the  points  of  view  under  which  we  shall  treat  it,  the 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     81 

next  step  in  our  preparation  is  to  ponder  it  dec}>ly 
and  with  all  the  powei-s  of  our  mind.  To  meditat<' 
our  subject  is  to  place  oiu'selves  face  to  face  with  it,  t(; 
study  and  sift  it  to  the  bottom,  to  look  at  it  in  all  its 
diiforcnt  aspects  until  we  become,  so  to  speak,  irradi- 
ated with  it;  until  we  see  at  a  glance  how  we  can 
make  it  most  effectually  conduce  to  the  instruction, 
the  conviction,  the  persuasion,  and  the  amendment  of 
our  flock. 

1st.  Hoio  ive  can  maJie  it  conduce  to  their  instruc- 
tion— and,  for  this  end,  we  examine  what  is  said  upon 
the  matter  in  theology,  and  whilst  we  form  clear,  pi'c- 
cise,  and  exact  ideas,  on  what  we  ma}'  call^^the  doc- 
trinal part  of  our  subject,  we  also  consider  the  beat 
means  of  conveying  these  ideas  to  our  audience. 

2ndly.  How  can  loe  make  it  conducive  to  the  con- 
vincing of  their  understanding — and,  for  this  purpose, 
we  study  what  proofs  and  Avhat  line  of  argument  are 
likely  to  make  most  impression  upon  them,  and  ^ve 
endeavour,  by  deep  and  serious  reflection,  to  become 
so  intimately  penetrated  with  our  subject,  so  inti- 
mately convinced  of  its  truth  and  its  reasonable- 
ness, as  to  be  filled  with  wonder  at  the  folly  of 
those  who  do  not  at  once  give  in  their  assent  to  it. 

3rdly.  How  we  can  make  it  conduce  to  their  persua- 
sion— and,  for  this,  having  instnicted  and  convinced 
our  audience  by  argument — we  consider  how  we  can 
most  powerfully  act  upon  their  souls,  and  influence 


82     Peoximate  Pkepakation  for  Preaching. 

their  wills;  what  strokes  of  oratoiy  we  can  employ  to 
move,  to  soften,  and  to  gain  them,  and  what  we  can 
say  that  shall  go  at  once  to  their  hearts.  We  consider 
how  we  can  bring  Holy  Scriptnre  to  om-  aid,  how  we 
can  turn  to  the  best  account  the  examples  of  the 
saints,  the  views  of  faith,  and  our  knowledge  of  the 
human  heai-t.  We  also  consider  what  figures  of  rhet- 
oric, as,  for  example,  apostrophe,  personification,  in- 
terrogation, etc.,  etc.,  will  be  of  most  assistance  to  us 
in  moving  our  audience,  and  the  manner  in  which 
these  figures  shall  be  employed. 

4thly.  Hoiv  we  can  make  it  conducive  to  the  ira- 
mendment — and  to  this  end,  having  seen,  in  a  general 
way,  ho^v  we  are  to  persuade  our  audience,  we  descend 
still  more  to  particulars,  and  ask  ourselves  what  we 
are  going  to  propose  to  our  flock  that  is  really  practi- 
cal and  to  the  point,  what  acts  of  virtue  and  ^^iiat 
salutary  practices  we  are  about  to  impress  upon  them; 
in  one  word,  how  we  are  going  to  coiTcct  what  is 
amiss  in  them,  how  we  are  going  to  lead  them  into  the 
path  of  sanctity  and  perfection. 

Some  such  process  as  this,  which  we  have  endeav- 
oured to  sketch,  is  what  is  meant  by  the  meditation 
of  our  subject,  and  it  is  recommended  by  all  great 
masters  of  the  art  as  an  essential  condition  of  every 
good  composition.  Without  such  serious  considera- 
tion we  shall  speak  at  best  but  superficiall}^,  often 
inexactly.     Our  discourse  will  be  nothing  but  a  heap 


Pboximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     83 

of  cold  and  pointless  ideas;  a  mass  of  texts  and  im- 
mature reflections.  We  shall  be  obscure,  because,  as 
we  have  not  taken  the  trouble  to  study  our  subject,  we 
shall  possess  no  clear  and  well  defined  ideas  upon  it. 
We  shall  be  cold,  inasmuch  as  neither  our  heart  nor 
our  imagination  will  have  been  inflamed  in  the  furnace 
of  deep  and  earnest  meditation.  We  shall  be  diffuse, 
because  we  shall  advance  without  order,  like  a  travel- 
ler in  a  strange  country.  B}^  due  meditation  of  our 
subject,  on  the  contrary,  we  become  masters  of  it,  and 
fully  possess  it.  Possessing  it  clearly,  we  announce 
and  develop  it  with  ease  and  facility.  Our  intellect 
supplies  us  with  the  clearest  proofs,  our  heart  with  the 
deepest  emotions,  and  om*  imagination  with  the  rich- 
est and  most  varied  figures.  The  most  telling  expres- 
sions, the  most  striking  and  original  tm-ns  of  thought, 
and  the  most  appropriate  figures,  present  themselves, 
as  it  were,  instinctively  to  us,  and  it  is  thus  that  the 
best  style  flows  out  from  its  natural  source,  and  the 
greatest  beauties  which  can  adom  a  sermon  spring 
without  effbit  from  the  subject  itself. 

There  are  two  methods  of  meditating  our  subject, 
the  direct  and  the  indirect.  If  we  happen  to  be  per- 
sons of  great  intellect,  persons  possessing  a  deep  store 
of  information,  and  a  grasp  of  mind  which  enables  us 
to  turn  that  information  to  ready  and  practical  ac- 
count, or,  if  circumstances  prevent  us  from  employing 
any  other,  we  may  use  the  direct  method,  which  con- 


84     Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching. 

sists  in  placing  ourselves  at  once  face  to  face  with  our 
subject,  in  bringing  all  tlie  powers  of  our  mind  to  bear 
upon  it  imtil  we  become  penetrated  with  it,  until  we 
see  it  in  all  its  aspects,  until,  especially,  we  behold  at 
a  glance  the  precise  manner  in  which  it  is  to  be  brought 
to  act  upon  those  whom  we  are  about  to  address  ;  and 
thus  viewing  it,  in  itself  and  in  its  relation  to  our  audi- 
ence, we  at  last,  to  use  the  words  of  Abbe  Baiitain,* 
conceive  our'  subject,  and,  in  this  conception,  obtain 
the  leadino;  idea  of  our  discoui-se,  the  idea  that  is  to 
be  embodied  in  the  one  proposition,  the  proving  and 
the  establishing  of  which  is  the  end  and  aim  of  our 
sermon,  as  we  shall  show  a  little  later  on  when  treat- 
ing of  unity.  This  direct  method  of  meditating  and 
conceiving  our  subject  is  a  purely  intellectual  process  in 
the  sense  that  it  supposes  no  actual  reading-up  of  mat- 
ter, no  collection  of  materials  but  what  is  supplied  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment  from  the  grauaiy  of  our  own 
mind,  and  beaten  into  shape  and  Applied  to  our  sub- 
ject through  the  mere  force  of  our  own  intellect, 
unaided  by  the  knowledge  or  the  experience  of  others. 
From  this  idea  of  it,  it  follows  we  think  pretty  plainly, 
that  only  the  possession  of  great  geniusy  or  necessity, 
will  justify  the  preacher  who,  as  a  rule,  aspires  to,  and 
contents  himself  with,  this  direct  mode  of  considering 
and  conceiving  his  subject. 

Ordinary  men  must  be  content  to  follow  a  more 
*  The  Art  of  Extempore  Speaking. 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     85 

laborious  and  circuitous  way  than  this.  There  are  few 
men  who  are  sufficiently  well  up  in  sacred  science,  or 
whose  knowledge  is  sufficiently  fresh  and  accurate,  to 
enable  them  to  sit  down  at  once  and  compose  their 
sermon,  without  some  previous  revision  and  reading-up 
of  matter,  and  such  men  must  employ  the  indirect 
method  of  meditating  and  conceiving  their  subject. 

This  method  consists  in  reading,  pencil  in  hand, 
some  approved  writer  on  the  snbject  which  we  have 
selected  to  treat.  This  lecture  instructs  us  on  those 
points  on  which  we  may  be  ignorant,  and  refi-eshes 
our  memory  on  those  which  he  had  begun  to  forget. 
It  awakens  and  fertilizes  the  imagination,  excites  our 
zeal,  inspires  us  with  conceptions  that  are  full  of  life, 
and  sets  the  spirit  of  invention  in  full  play.  This 
coui'se  of  reading  is  very  different  from  the  one  described 
in  the  proceding  chapter.  Then,  we  read  in  order 
to  fonn  our  style ;  now,  we  read  in  order  to  acquire 
matter,  and  an  insight  into  the  most  striking  way  of 
presenting  it  with  a  view  to  the  actual  composition  of 
our  discourse.  Hence,  in  our  present  reading,  we  pro- 
pose to  ourselves  to  sift  our  subject  to  the  very  bot> 
tom  in  order  that  we  may  put  ourselves  in  a  position 
to  give  sound,  solid,  and  exact  instruction  upon  it  to 
our  flock.  We  not  only  seek  out  and  make  substan- 
tial notes  of  all  those  ideas,  passages,  and  practical 
applications,  with  which  we  meet  in  our  reading,  but, 
\  we  endeavour  still  more  to  master  and  possess  the  gen- 


86      Peoximate  Preparation  for  Preaching. 

eral  order  of  the  discourse,  the  way  in  which  the  vari- 
ous ideas  are  brought  out,  presented,  and  connected 
with  those  which  precede  and  those  which  follow. 
We  study  the  figures,  the  comparisons,  the  strong  and 
vigorous  expressions  which  give  such  life  to  those  ideas, 
and,  in  a  word,  everything  which  adds  nerve,  force, 
and  beauty  to  the  discourse.  We  endeavour  to  enter 
fully  into  the  spirit  of  the  writer,  that  thus  our  heart 
and  our  imagination  may  be  equally  set  on  lire,  that 
we  may,  so  to  speak,  be  inspired  by  our  subject.  All 
this  supposes,  of  course,  that  we  know  where  to  look 
for  standard  matter  on  our  suliject,  and  that  we  read 
with  deep  and  serious  attention,  making  short,  but 
lucid  and  substantial  notes  as  we  go  along  of  every- 
thing that  strikes  us  as  peculiarly  useful  either  to 
instruct,  to  convince,  or  to  move  our  audience. 

We  read  in  this  manner  until,  to  use  a  homely 
phrase,  we  feel  full  of  our  subject.  Then,  laying  aside 
our  book,  Ave  take  up  the  notes  which  we  have  made 
during  our  reading,  and  re-read  them  face  to  face  with 
our  subject.  We  ponder  seriously  before  God  on  what 
we  have  read  and  the  notes  we  have  made,  alwaj's  of 
coui'se  in  relation  with  our  subject  ;  and,  whilst 
through  this  deep  meditation  we  become  fully  possessed 
of  our  matter,  and  make  it,  in  the  truest  sinise,  our 
own,  we  at  the  same  time  conceive  our  subject  in  the 
manner  described  above,  and  obtain  the  clearest  view 
of  that  which  is  to  be  the  leading  idea  of  our  discourse. 


Pkoxim.vte  Preparation  for  Preaching.     87 

that  ideii  or  truth  which,  as  wc  liavc  said,  is  to  be 
embodied  in  our  proposition,  and  to  the  establishing 
of  which  all  our  cllbrts  are  to  be  directed. 

This  indirect  method  of  considering  and  conceiving 
our  subject  is  a  little  more  laborious  than  the  other, 
but  it  is  vastly  safer.  IMoreover,  a  little  practice  and 
a  little  perseverance  will  not  only  render  it  easy,  but 
as  pleasing  as  it,  most  certainly,  will  be  useful. 

Having  thus  fixed  upon  our  subject,  and  having 
considered  it  well  and  deeply  in  the  manner  described 
alcove, we  are  now  ready  to  proceed  to  the  next  stage 
of  our  preparation,  viz.,  the  arrangement  of  om-  matter 
by  means  of  a  clear,  definite,  and  well-orgauized  plan. 

SECTION  III. 

THE  ARRANGEMENT  OF    OUR  MATTER  BY  MEANS  OF  THE 
PLAN  OF  OUR    DISCOURSE. 

We  have  collected  the  substantial  materials  of 
which  our  discourse  is  to  be  composed.  We  have 
made  a  note  of  ever3i;hing  which  occun'ed  to  us  dur- 
ing our  reading  as  peculiarly  sticking  or  useful  for  the 
purpose  we  have  in  hand.  We  have  under  our  eye 
all  the  texts  of  Holy  Writ,  the  extracts  from  the 
Fathers,  the  theological  reasons,  the  proofs,  the  argu- 
ments, in  a  word,  everything  which  our  intellect,  our 
heart,  or  our  course  of  reading  has  suggested  to  us ; 
and,  up  to  this  point,  we  have  made  good  progress. 


88     Peoximate  Peepaeation  foe  Preachin"G. 

We  possess  abundant  materials  with  which  to  construct 
our  edifice,  but  we  possess  them  in  a  contused  mass, 
without  order,  regularity,  or  design  ;  and,  as  no  amount 
of  wood  and  stone  would  suffice  to  raise  a  material 
edifice  unless  they  were  put  in  order,  and  arranged 
according  to  the  plan  of  the  architect,  so,  no  amount 
or  collection  of  matter  will  enal^le  a  pastor  to  preach 
a  good  sermon  unless  that  matter  be  properly  an-anged, 
unless  everything  be  put  in  its  proper  place  and 
reduced  to  order. 

There  is  no  way  of  reducing  this  ma^  of  materials 
to  order,  except  by  taking  our  pen  in  hand,  and,  before 
we  begin  to  compose  our  sermon,  making  a  goodj)lan, 
or  skeleton,  of  our  discourse. 

The  plan  of  a  cliscoui'se  is,  according  to  M.  Bautain, 
the  m^der  of  the  iJiings  tvhich  have  to  be  unfolded.  It 
supposes,  therefore,  the  matter  to  be  unfolded,  (and 
this  we  have  already  collected  in  a  confused  mass,)  and 
the  order  in  which  that  matter  is  to  be  unfolded. 

Simple  as  all  this  may  seem,  its  importance  can 
scarcely  be  exaggerated.  There  is  scarcely  anything 
which  is  more  overlooked  by  ordinary  preachers  ;  and 
we  venture  to  say  that  the  utter  failure  of  so  many 
sermons  is  to  be  attributed  neither  to  poverty  of  mat- 
ter, nor  defects  of  style  and  delivery,  so  much  as  to 
the  prevailing  Avant  of  order  and  method,  and  the  con- 
sequent absence  of  any  definite  end,  aim,  or  object  in 
the    discourses  to    which   we    listen.      How    many 


Proximate  Pkeparatiok  for  Preaching.     89 

preachers    are    there    who    more    than   justify    Dr. 
"VVhately's  bitiug  criticism  !       "  Many  a   Avandering 
discoui'se  one  hears  in  which  the  preacher  aims  at' 
nothing  and  hits  it." 

And,  what  is  the  practical  consequence  of  this  ? 
AVhy,  that  as  the  preacher  had  no  clear  idea  of  ivJtat 
he  wished  to  say,  or  of  the  order  in  which  he  wished 
to  say  it,  his  flock  have  still  less  recollection  of  what 
he  did  say.  They  carry  away  from  his  sermon  no  clear 
definite  ideas  on  any  one  point,  on  any  virtue  to  be 
practised  and  the  manner  of  practising  it,  for  the  very 
simple  reason  that  the  discoiu'se  neither  contained  nor 
enunciated  any  such  ideas.  The  preacher,  indeed, 
may  have  glanced,  in  his  confused  and  disordeiiy  man- 
ner, at  many  things,  but  he  has  entered  thoroughly 
into  none.  He  has  driven  no  one  truth  home  to  the 
hearts  of  his  flock,  as  he  should  have  proposed  to  him- 
self to  do,  remembering  that  ordinary  people  scarcely 
remember  more  than  one  thing  at  a  time.  An  hom* 
after  his  sermon,  he  himself  could  scarcely  tell  you  the 
precise  subject  on  which  he  preached,  the  one  idea 
w^hich  he  strove  to  write  on  the  hearts  of  his  flock, 
and  the  order  and  method  by  which  he  proposed  to  ac- 
complish his  end  ;  and,  for  the  best  of  reasons,  because 
he  had  no  such  idea  or  method.  What  wonder,  then, 
if  that  flock  have  long  since  foro-otten  the  sermon 
Avhich  he  himself  no  longer  recollects,  for  the  obvious 
reason  that  he  ncA'er  full}'  possessed  or  clearly  expressed 


90     Proximate  Pkeparation  for  Preaching. 

it.  Such  sermons — and  would  that  they  were  fewer — 
to  use  a  veiy  homely  but  pointed  expression,  go  in  at 
one  ear  and  out  at  the  other. 

The  sad  end  of  all  this  is  that  his  flock  listen,  Sun- 
day after  Sunday,  to  his  sermons,  without  obtaining 
one  solid  morsel  of  sound  and  lasting  instruction,  with- 
out conceiving  one  generous  resolution  of  advancing  in 
God's  holy  service ;  whilst  he,  as  he  witnesses  the 
scandals  which  are  for  ever  showino-  their  foul  front 
in  his  parish,  is  obliged  to  confess,  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  heart,  that  his  ministry  is  a  barren  and  a  fruitless 
one  ;  that  his  words  fall  on  a  hard  soil,  a  soil  which, 
if  he  did  but  realize  it,  is  ou\j  hard  from  want  of  culti- 
vation ;  that  he  is  but  as  one  who  beats  the  air  with 
empty  woixls ;  that  he  is  but  as  the  tinkling  brass  and 
the  sounding  cymbal ;  the  unthrifty  husbandman,  who 
spends  his  whole  life  in  sowing  bad  and  unfruitful  seed 
which  never  yields  the  increase. 

There  is  no  way  of  meeting  this  great  and  common 
failing  of  ordinary  sermons,  except  by  making  a  good 
plan  of  one's  discoui-se.  The  fundamental  quality  of 
every  good  plan  is  uniti/,  which  we  now  proceed  to 
consider. 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     91 
SECTION  IV. 

UNITY. 

By  the  unity  of  a  discourse  we  mean  that  evei'}i;hing 
in  it  tends  to  the  establishing  of  some  one,  precise  and 
dearly  defined  proposition  which  we  propose  to  our- 
selves to  impress  so  deeply  on  the  hearts  of  our  hearers 
that  they  cannot  possibly  escape  the  practical  conclu- 
sions which  we  deduce  from  it ;  arid,  that  all  the 
proofe,  examples,  illustrations,  etc.  which  our  sermon 
contains  have  reference  to  the  development  of  the  one 
great  leading  truth  which  is  embodied  in  this  pro- 
position. 

Unity  comprises  two  things,  unity  of  view,  and  unity 
of  means. 

There  is  unity  oi  yieiv  in  a  discourse  when  eveiy- 
thing  in  it  tends  to  the  one  common  end  ;  when  there 
is  not  a  phrase  in  the  sermon  which  is  not  expressed 
except  with  this  object,  and  which  is  not  either  neces- 
sary or  useful  in  conducting  our  audience  to  it  ;  when, 
in  fine,  from  this  common  end  as  from  a  centi-al  point, 
we  can  take  in  the  whole  sermon,  with  all  its  ramifica- 
tions, at  a  glance  of  the  eye.  Unity  of  view  imparts 
this  remarkable  property  to  a  discom-se,  that  it  reduces 
it  to  one  leading  proposition,  which  is  merely  brought 
out  into  greater  relief  by  the  various  icays  in  which 
it  may  be  presented  to  an  audience  ;  or  rather,  as 
Fenelon  expresses  it,  the  discourse  is  merely  the  devel- 


93        PkOXIMATE    PEEPAEx\.TIO]Sr   FOR   PrEACHI]S"G. 

opmeiit  of  the  proposition,  and  the  proposition  is  noth- 
ino^  more  than  an  abrido-nient  of  the  discourse. 

There  is  unity  of  means  in  a  discourse  when  all  its 
parts  are  so  united,  connected,  and  arranged,  that  the 
preacher  advances  continually  on  the  same  line  of  pro- 
gressive conceptions,  when  it  is  one  tissue  of  ideas  and 
sentiments  which  beget  and  follow  one  another.  In 
this  way  everything  is  in  its  proper  place  ;  each  truth 
prepares  the  way  for,  introduces,  and  sustains  some 
other  truth  which  has  equal  need  of  its  support ;  and, 
thus,  they  all  unite  to  conduct  the  audience  to  the 
common  end  in  such  a  manner,  and  with  such  an  inti- 
mate and  close  connection,  that  no  one  of  these  leading 
idciis  can  be  omitted  without  destroying  the  order  of 
the  march,  no  one  misplaced  without  weakening  the 
force,  and  deranging  the  harmony  of  the  whole  dis- 
course. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  prove  how  essential  this 
unity  is  to  every  good  discourse.  We  have  already 
glanced  at  the  evil  consequences  arising  from  its  absence 
ill  a  sermon.  Certainly,  unity  of  view  is  necessary, 
since  everything  in  a  discourse  which  does  not  tend  to 
the  common  end  and  design,  -which  the  preacher 
necessarily  proposes  to  himself,  is  merely  thrown  away. 
Discoimected  and  disjointed  ideas  which  have  no  direct 
reference  to  the  leading  truth  laid  down  in  the  pro- 
position only  distract  the  hearer.  However  ignorant 
he  may  be,  he  is  offended  at  having  extraneous  mat- 


4 

Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     93 

tei-s  thrust  upon  his  notice,  which  merely  cjuisod  him 
to  lose  sight  of  the  leading  idea  and  principal  subject 
of  the  discom'se.  He  listens  with  annoyance  and 
impatience  to  that  which  even  his  limited  intelligence 
perceives  to  have  no  definite  connection  with  the  sub- 
ject in  hand.  He  looks  upon  the  preacher  as  a  traveller 
who  has  either  forgotten,  or  Avho  knows  not  whither 
he  is  oroino;.  He  thus  loses  all  interest  in  the  discourse, 
and,  naturally,  receives  no  benefit  from  it. 

And,  it  is  not  sufficient  that  what  we  say  have  some 
rehition  to  the  general  end  of  the  discourse,  and  be 
thus  comprehended,  in  a  degree  more  or  less  vague, 
within  the  unity  of  view.  Eveiy  idea,  eveiy  sentence, 
that  we  utter,  must  be  expressed  in  its  proper  place  ; 
or,  in  other  words,  unity  of  means  is  no  less  essential 
tlian  unity  of  view.  What  is  it  that  makes  a  grand 
edifice  ?  It  is  not  a  great  mass  of  stones  and  mater- 
ials, nor  the  heaping  together  of  many  parts  without 
reference  to  the  whole  ;  but  it  is  the  just  proportion 
of  the  various  fabrics  to  one  another,  and  their  due 
arrangement  so  as  to  form  one  harmonious  whole. 
And,  again,  to  use  the  figure  of  Quintilian,  what  is  it 
that  makes  a  strong  and  vigorous  body,  but  the  union 
and  perfect  agreement  of  all  the  membei's.  Displace 
but  one  member  and  the  beautiful  body  becomes  a 
monster.  It  is  the  same  in  a  sennon.  Its  strength 
and  its  beauty  arise,  not  from  disconnected  and  dis- 
united membei"s,  no  matter  how  elegant  they  may  be 


94       PeOXIMATE   PREPAEATIOlSr   FOR   PrEACHIXG. 

in  themselves,  but  from  the  intimate  relation,  and  the 
l^eifect  agreement,  of  one  part  to  another  and  to  the 
whole.  Its  beauty  lies  in  the  skilful  and  proper  plac- 
ing of  each  proof  and  of  each  idea,  and  in  the  order 
and  coherence  of  those  ideas,  which  are  so  connected 
and  knit  together  that  no  one  can  be  omitted  without 
causing  a  fatal  gap,  without  destroying  the  vitality  of 
the  whole.  In  one  word,  the  vigom*  and  harmony 
of  a  discourse  depend  principally  upon  the  order  with 
which  it  is  arranged,  and  the  more  orderly  and  defi- 
nite it  is  the  more  perfect  it  is.  Hence,  if  each  idea, 
each  truth,  each  argument,  be  not  placed  in  its  proper 
position,  the  preacher  will  say  at  the  commencement 
that  which  ouo;ht  not  to  have  come  in  until  the  mid- 
die  or  end  of  his  discourse.  He  will  finish  where  he 
ought  to  have  begun,  or  vice  versa.  If  there  be  not 
a  strict  and  logical  sequence  of  ideas,  of  proofs,  and  of 
arguments  in  a  sermon,  it  is  essentially  faulty.  Such 
a  discourse  is  without  unity,  that  unity  which,  accord- 
^ing  to  St.  Augustine,  is  the  principle  and  the  form  of 
ever}'thiug  that  is  beautiful.  Omnis  pulchritudinis 
forma  unitas  est*  Without  unity  there  can  be  no 
order,  without  order  in  a  sermon,  as  in  eveiything  else, 
there  can  be  nothing  but  darkness  and  confusion. 

To  secure  this  essential  unity,  and  its  natural  re- 
sults, definiteness  of  view  and  orderly  arrangement, 
the  preacher,  according  to  the  advice  of  St.  Francis 
*  1  Epis.,  xviii. 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     95 

cle  Sales,  should  never  enter  the  pulpit  without  a 
definite  desi<rn  of  addins:  some  definite  stone  to  the 
walls  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem;  that  is  to  say,  he 
ought  alwaj^s  to  propose  to  himself  the  obtaining  of 
some  definite  end  which  shall  be  conducive  to  the 
salvation  of  his  audience,  and,  for  this  purpose,  he 
should  say  to  himself.  What  is  it  precisely  that  I  wish 
to  gain  from  my  hearers  ?  What  refonn,  what  pious 
practice,  what  special  virtue,  do  I  aspire  to  inculcate  ? 
With  what  dispositions,  with  what  generous  and  spe- 
cific resolutions  do  I  seek  to  animate  them  ?  If  he 
do  not  see  the  answer  to  this  question,  as  clear  and 
definite  as  the  question  itself,  he  may  be  pretty  cer- 
tain that  his  discourse  will  be  vague,  confused,  and  to 
a  jjreat  extent  useless.  Dr.  Newman  thus  \mtes  on 
this  matter.* 

"  My  second  remark  is,  that  it  is  the  preacher's 
duty  to  aim  at  imparting  to  others,  not  any  fortuitous, 
unpremeditated  benefit,  but  some  defim'fe  spiritual 
good.  It  is  here  that  design  and  study  find  their 
place;  the  more  exact  and  precise  is  the  subject  of 
which  he  treats,  the  more  impressive  and  practical 
will  he  be;  whereas  no  one  will  carry  ofi:'  much  from 
a  discourse  which  is  on  the  general  subject  of  virtue, 
or  vaguely  and  feebly  entertains  the  question  of  the 
desirableness  of  attaining  Heaven,  or  the  rashness  of 
incurring  eternal  ruin." 

*  University  Preaching. 


96     Pkoximate  Preparatiost  for  Preachuntg. 

"Nay,  I  would  go  the  length,"  he  continues,  "of 
recommending  a  preacher  to  place  a  distinct  categori- 
cal proposition  before  him,  such  as  he  can  write  down 
in  a  form  of  words,  and  to  guide  and  limit  his  prepa- 
ration by  it,  and  to  aim  in  all  he  says  to  bring  it  out, 
and  nothing  else.  This  seems  to  be  implied  or  sug- 
gested in  St.  Charles's  direction  :  '  Id  omnio  stu debit, 
ut  quod  in  concione  dicturus  est,  antea  bene  cognitum 
habeat.'  Nay,  is  it  not  expressly  conveyed  in  the 
Scripture  phrase  of  '  preaching  the  7vonl,^  for  what  is 
meant  by  '  the  word,'  but  a  proposition  addressed  to 
the  intellect  ?  Nor  will  a  preacher's  earnestness  shoAV 
itself  in  an}i:hing  more  unequivocally,  than  in  his  re- 
jecting, whatever  be  the  temptation  to  admit  it,  e^'cry 
remark  however  original,  every  period  however  elo- 
quent, which  does  not  in  some  way  or  other  tend  to 
bring  out  this  one  distinct  proposition  which  he  has 
chosen.  Nothing  is  so  fatal  to  the  efl'ect  of  a  sermon, 
as  the  habit  of  preaching  on  three  or  four  sulyects  at 
once.  I  acknowledge  I  am  advancing  a  step  beyond 
the  practice  of  great  Catholic  preachers,  when  I  add, 
that,  even  though  we  preach  on  only  one  at  a  time, 
finishing  and  dismissing  the  first  before  we  go  to  the 
second,  and  the  second  before  we  go  to  the  third,  still, 
after  all,  a  practice  like  this,  though  not  open  to  the 
inconvenience  which  confusing  of  one  subject  with  an- 
other involves,  is  in  matter  of  fact  nothing  short  of 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.     97 

the  delivery  of  three  sermons  in  succession  without 
break  between  them. 

"  Summing  up  then  what  I  have  been  saying,  I 
ol)serve  that,  if  I  have  imdei-stood  the  doctrine  of  St. 
Charles,  St.  Francis,  and  other  saints  aright,  definite- 
ness  of  object  is  in  various  Avays  the  one  viitue  of  the 
preacher; — and  this  means,  that  he  should  set  out 
with  the  intention  of  conveying  to  others  some  spir- 
itual benefit;  that,  with  a  view  to  this,  and  as  the  only 
ordinary  way  to  it,  he  should  select  some  distinct  fact 
or  scene,  some  passage  in  histoiy,  some  truth,  simple 
or  profound,  some  doctrine,  some  principle,  or  some 
sentiment,  and  should  study  it  well  and  thoroughly, 
and  first  make  it  his  own,  or  should  have  already 
dwelt  on  it  and  mastered  it,  so  as  to  be  able  to  use  it 
for  the  occasion,  from  an  habitual  understandinsr  of  it; 
and  that  then  he  should  employ  himself,  as  the  one 
business  of  his  discourse,  to  bring  home  to  others,  and 
to  leave  deep  within  them,  what  he  has,  before  he  be- 
gan to  speak  to  them,  Ijrought  home  to  himself. 
What  he  feels  himself,  and  feels  deeply,  he  has  to 
make  othei-s  feel  deeply;  and,  in  proportion  as  he 
comprehends  this,  he  will  rise  above  the  temptation 
of  introducing  collateral  matters,  and  will  have  no 
taste,  no  heart,  for  going  aside  after  flowei-s  of  oratoiy, 
fine  figures,  tuneful  periods,  which  are  worth  nothing 
unless  they  come  to  him  spontaneously,  and  are  spoken 

'  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart.' " 

7 


98     Proximate  Peeparatiox  for  Preaching. 

Yes,  what  gveat  leading  practical  truth  is  it  which 
I  wish  to  write  upon  the  hearts  of  my  people  ?  Tliis 
is  the  question  which  the  preacher  will  revolve  again 
and  again  in  his  mind,  prayerfully  before  God,  and 
with  an  intimate  conviction  of  its  vast  importance. 
It  is  the  point  upon  which  the  whole  success  of  the 
sermon  depends.  The  answer  which  he  is  able  to 
make  to  himself  on  this  vital  question,  will  furnish 
him  with  the  proposition  of  his  discourse.  This 
proposition  will,  therefore,  embody,  and  briefly  ex- 
pose, the  great  leading  truth  which  is  the  foundation 
of  the  sermon.  But  this  truth  although  essentially 
o;te,  may,  and,  perhaps,  ought  to  be  presented  to  our 
audience  under  various  points  of  view.  We  may,  for 
example,  employ  many  arguments  to  enforce  the  love 
of  God,  without  ever  losing  sight  of  the  one  object; 
whilst,  if  we  introduce  arguments  into  the  same  ser- 
mon on  the  love  of  our  neighbour,  we  sin  unpardona- 
bly  against  unity,  and  run  the  risk  of  producing  no 
clear  and  definite  result. 

With  these  remarks  on  unity,  the  essential  quality 
of  every  good  plan,  we  now  return  to  the  more  direct 
consideration  of  the  plan  itself 

We  have  said  just  now  that  the  one  leading  idea  of 
our  sermon  may,  and  perhaps  ought  to  be  presented 
under  variotts  points  of  view — that  it  rests  on  two  or 
three  great  leading  proofs  or  arguments.  We  see  at 
a  glance,  on  carefully  reading  our  notes,  that  all  the 


Proximate  Preparatio^st  for  Preaching.     99 

arguments,  comparisons,  examples,  etc.,  which  we  have 
collected  as  bearing  on  our  subject,  can  easily  be  ar- 
ranged under  two  or  three  leading  heads ;  and,  the 
making  of  the  plan  of  our  discourse  is  nothing  more 
than  the  taking  of  our  pen  in  hand,  and  with  the 
principle  of  unity  always  clearly  before  us,  the  or- 
derly arranging  of  our  materials  under  these  two  or 
three  leading  heads.  These  two  or  three  leading- 
heads  form  the  membei-s  of  our  division,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  parts  of  our  discourse.  These  leading  mem- 
bere  are  in  themselves,  in  one  sense,  general  proposi- 
tions, as  they  are  the  foundation  of  special  arguments 
and  oratorical  developments;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
there  is  such  a  strict  coherence  and  connection  be- 
tween them  and  the  subject,  that  they  resolve  them- 
selves into  a  proposition  which  is  still  more  general, 
to  wit,  that  of  the  discourse.  It  is  evident  that  the 
preacher,  in  thus  arranging  the  plan  of  his  sermon, 
advances  by  way  of  analysis,  from  particular  ideas  to 
general  propositions.  It  is  equally  evident  that,  in 
the  development  of  the  discourse  itself,  he  uses  the 
synthetical  method,  descending  from  the  general  pro- 
position of  his  discourse  to  the  consideration  of  those 
minor  propositions  which  are  subordinate  to  it,  but 
each  of  which,  nevertheless,  possesses  its  own  proper 
proofs,  ideas,  and  sentiments. 

To  sum  up  practically  what  we   have   said,  the 
preacher  will  an-ange  the  plan  of  his  discourse  in 


100    Proximate  Preparation  for  PREACHiifG. 

some  such  way  as  this.  Having  selected  his  subject, 
having  meditated  and  conceived  it  in  the  manner  al- 
ready described,  he  will  Avrite  do^vn  the  proj)Osition 
which  embodies  the  leading  idea  of  his  sermon. 
Then,  he  will  arrange  the  members  of  his  division,  oi", 
the  parts  of  his  discourse,  each  one  in  its  proper 
place,  with  its  own  peculiar  arguments  and  oratorical 
developments  briefly  but  clearly  sketched  out.  Next, 
he  will  select  the  text  of  Scripture  most  appropriate 
to  head  his  sermon.  Then  he  will  determine,  from  a 
general  view  of  the  whole  discourse,  what  idea  will 
most  fitly  introduce  it;  in  other  words,  he  will  obtain 
the  idea  of  his  exordium  ;  and,  lastly,  he  will  consider 
and  note  down,  from  the  same  general  view  of  the 
whole  discourse,  those  sentiments,  powerful  emotions, 
and  generous  resolutions  with  which  he  will  seek  to 
move  his  hearers  at  the  close  of  his  sermon,  in  other 
words,  the  matter  of  his  peroration  or  conclusion. 

The  leading  idea,  embodied  and  exposed  in  the 
general  proposition — the  members  or  parts  of  the  dis- 
course— the  text — the  idea  of  the  exordium  and  of 
the  peroration — such  are  the  dry  bones  which  form 
the  skeleton  or  plan  of  a  discourse,  and,  although  not 
that  of  the  actual  composition,  as  we  shall  see  in  an- 
other chapter,  such  is  the  order  in  which  they  will 
have  been  "  invented"  or  conceived  by  the  preacher. 

To  aid  the  young  preacher,  to  render  this  matter 
still  more  plain,  and  to  bring  it  home  more  practically 


Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching.   101 

to  him,  Ave  subjoin  a  plan  of  a  discoui'se.  For  obvi- 
ous reasons  we  have  selected  a  trite  and  veiy  familiar 
subject.  The  student  will  perceive  that  merely  sub- 
stantial ideas  are  presented,  whilst  the  rhetorical 
fillinjj-in  of  those  ideas  is  left  to  each  one's  individual 
taste  and  style.  He  will  also  perceive  at  a  glance 
that  the  whole  subject,  as  embodied  in  the  division,  is 
reduced  to  a  syllogism.  A  few  words  of  explanation 
on  the  major  of  the  proposition,  which  no  one  will 
deny,  may  fonn  the  exordium  or  introduction.  The 
minor  furnishes  the  three  points,  or  members  of  the 
discourse,  whilst  the  peroration  contains  the  conclusion. 


plan  of  a  sermon  on  the  importance  of  eternal 
salvation. 


Leading  Idea 
Text. 


Division 


The  seouriug  of  his  salvation  should  be  the  great 
object  of  every  man's  life.  Eccles.  xii,  13. 
Deum  time  et  mandata  ejus  observa :  hoc  est 
enim  omnis  homo. 
All  reasonable  men  labour  most  earnestly  for  that 
which  is  most  worthy  of  their  toil.  Whether  we 
consider  (1)  the  views  of  God,  (2)  the  actions  of 
the  saints,  or  (.3)  the  sentiments  of  men  at  the 
hour  of  their  death,  we  must  admit  that  salva- 
tion is  the  object  most  worthy  of  the  attention 
of  every  reasonable  man — Therefore — 
PiBtST  Point— T/ie  Views  of  God. 

Why  did  God  create  us — why  does  ^ 
he  preserve  us — why  does   he 
bear  with  us  in  our  tepidity —      That  we  may  se- 
our  relapses — our  sins.  cure  the  salvation 

"Why  did  the  Sou  of  God  become  I  of  our   immortal 
incarnate — lead  a  life  of  suffer-  [  souls. 
ing — die  upon  the  Cross.  Eccles.  xii,  13. 

Why  does  the  Holy  Ghost  con-  Prov.  xvi,  4. 

tinually  prevent  us  with    His 
graces. 


102    Pkoximate  Pkepaeation  foe  Pkeaching. 


Second  Point — The  Actions  of  the  Saints. 

"Why  did  the  saints  lead  lives  of  ^ 
such  rigorous  penance — David — 
Magdalene — Anthony — Basil  — 
Mary  of  Egypt,  and   so  many 
others. 

Why  did  the  Martyrs  sustain  the 

greatest  tortures  so  cheerfully  That  they  might 
and  lay  down  their  lives  so  the  more  certainly 
readily.  >  secure  the  salva- 

■Why  have  so  many  Mnffs  forsaken      tiou  of  their  souls, 
their  crowns — so  uiimy  noblemen  Eccles.  i. 

their  high  station  —  so  many 
courtiers  the  pomps  and  pleas- 
ures of  a  court,  —  so  many 
icealthy  men  their  riches  to  lead 
lives  of  poverty  and  mortifica- 
tion. 


Third  Point — The  sentiments  of  Men  at  the  Hour 
of  Death. 

"What  are  the  sentiments  of  the  ^ 
just  man  at  the  hour  of  his  death. 
What  does  ho  think  of  the 
labours  —  the  self-denial  —  the 
works  of  piety — in  which  he 
has  spent  his  life. 

"WTiat  are  the  sentiments  of  the 
sinner — what  does  he  think  of 
worldly  pleasures  —  honours — 
riches. 

What  does  ho  think  of  those  sins 
in  which  he  has  steeped  his 
soul — for  which  he  has  thrown 
away  his  salvation. 


He  is  filled  with 
ji)^-  at  having  done 
liis  best  to  save 
his  soul. 

Ps.  cxxi,  1. 


He  is  filled  with 
horror  and    una- 
^  vailing    remorse. 
-Solomcm. 
Eccles.  i,  2. 


Conclusion, — Affections  and  Resolutions. 

Filled  with  gratitude  to  God  who  ) 

has  spared  us.  5 

With  sorrow  for  our  past  negli-  ) 

gence.  j 

With  an  intimate  conviction  of  its 
necessity. 


Ps.  cxv,  12. 
Ps.  i. 

Matt,  xvi,  26. 


PkOXIMATE    PrEPAKATIOX    for    PllKACIIING.     103 

Wi' will  heiicoforwHvd  labour  M-ith  ^ 

all  our  hearts  to  secure  our  sal-   >      Ps.  Ixxvii,  11. 
vation.  ; 

And  i'or  this  end  we  now  resolve  ^ 
to  adopt  the  practical  mecDis  of   j 
doiug  so,  and  to  emplo}-  those  |-      Matt,  xix,  17. 
means,  prompthj,  perseveringly.  j 
and  efficaciously.  J 

Exhortation — Prayer. 

According  to  some  such  method  as  this  will  the 
preacher  aiTange  the  matter  of  his  discourse.  A  jjkm 
is  equally  useful  and  equally  necessaiy,  mutatis  mutan- 
dis^ for  the  set  sermon  as  for  the  familiar  instruction. 
Perhaps  it  is  most  necessary  in  the  preparation  of  the 
familiar  instruction,  for  as  this  will  be  delivered  to 
simple  and  ignorant  people,  there  is  all  the  greater 
need  of  order  and  clearness.  The  above  plan  has  been 
made  as  simple  as  possible,  but,  slight  as  it  may  seem, 
the  preacher  will  find  that  the  development  of  the 
ideas  which  it  suggests  will  more  than  occupy  the 
half  hour  which  an  ordinary  discourse  should  not 
exceed.  Being  on  one  of  the  great  general  subjects 
which  the  preacher  ti'eats  from  time  to  time,  the  prac- 
tical conclusions  are  more  general  than  will  Ijethe  case 
in  ordinary  sermons,  which  will  of  course  be  more  par- 
ticular in  their  nature,  and  more  definite  in  their  con- 
clusions. Nevertheless,  the  student  will  perceive  that  in 
the  above  plan  every  idea  which  it  suggests,  ever}' 
example,  and  eveiy  comparison  which  it  points  out, 
tends  to  the  establishing  of  the  one  leading  idea,  the 
necessity  of  labouring  to  secure  our  eternal  salvation. 


104    Proximate  Preparation  for  Preaching. 

whilst  they  all  prepare  the  way  for  the  practical  con- 
clusions which  flow  from  the  whole  argumentation  on 
the  subject — viz.,  the  resolution  to  labour  henceforward 
with  all  our  heart  to  secure  that  Siilvation,  and  for  this 
end,  the  adoption  of  the  means  suggested  by  the  Holy 
Gospel. — Matt,  xix,  17. 

The  student  will  remember,  too,  that  the  plan  of 
his  discourse  is  to  be  notJiing  more  than  a  plan,  or 
skeleton.  It  admits  of  no  style  or  fine  writing.  All 
this  will  come  later  on  when  we  begin  the  actual  com- 
position of  our  discourse.  The  plan  is,  in  the  strictest 
sense,  the  mere  skeleton  of  the  sermon,  the  ixjugh  draft 
Avhich  the  skilful  hand  of  the  artist  traces  out  in  order 
to  secure  unity  of  view  and  of  means,  before  he  begins 
to  fill  in  the  rich  and  varied  details  of  his  composition, 
before  he  beo'ins  to  clothe  the  drv  bones  with  living 
flesh  and  muscle.  It  should  be  drawn  out  with  such 
exactness,  and  with  such  an  orderly  and  logical  distri- 
liution  of  all  its  parts,  as  will  enable  the  writer  to  take 
in  at  a  glance  the  one  end  to  be  gained,  and  the  means 
of  gaining  it.  If  it  secure  this,  no  matter  what  method 
he  may  follow  in  drawing  it  up,  it  is  a  perfect  plan, 
and  anything  more  than  this  it  does  not  aspire  toeflect. 

It  is  scarcely  necessaiy  to  add  that  a  sermon  does 
Jiot  absolutely  require  to  have  three,  or  even  two  points. 
If  the  time  be  sufficiently  employed,  or  if  the  subject 
}>e  sufficiently  developed  by  one  point,  it  would  be  quite 
useless  to  add  more.     The  only  thing  to  be  borne  in 


Proximate  Prepakatiox  for  Preachixg.    105 

mind  is,  that,  if  we  do  employ  two  or  three  points,  they 
must  not  be  advanced  in  order  to  prove  two  or  three 
different  truths,  but  simply  as  different  ways  of  prov- 
ing and  developing  the  one  great  truth  embodied  in 
the  proposition  of  our  discourse. 

It  may  be  useful  to  remark  that  there  arc  many  excel- 
lent works,  especially  in  the  French  language,  which 
contain  skeletons  or  plans  of  sermons.  The  Adjn- 
menta  Oratoris  Sacri  of  the  Rev.  Father  Schouppe, 
S.  J.,  and  the  Explanations  of  the  Gospels  for  ever}' 
Sunday  in  the  year,*  lately  published  l>y  the  same 
author,  are  perhaps  amongst  the  most  valuable  and 
practically  useful  of  recent  publications  on  this  mat- 
ter. The  i^lans  which  these  works  contain  appear  to 
be  drawn  up  in  strict  accordance  with  those  conditions 
which  have  been  laid  down  as  essential.  They  are 
fertile  in  the  suggestion  of  substantial  ideas,  which  are 
left  to  be  clothed  in  the  peculiar  language  and  expres- 
sion of  him  who  employs  them. 

* "  Evangelia  Dominicarum  ac  Festoram  Totius  anui,  Homiliticis 
explicationibus  Illustrata,  etc.,  etc. 


CHAPTER  V. 

FIYE  PEIXCIPAL  METHODS  OF  PREPARIN'G  A 

DISCOURSE. 

HERE  may  be  said  to  be  five  principal  meth- 
ods of  preparing  an  instruction,  or,  sermon. 
The  first  of  these  methods  is  to  commit  to 
memory  and  deliver  the  sermon  of  another. 
The  second  method  consists  in  merely  tracing  out,  in 
the  slightest  manner,  the  skeleton  of  the  discourse,  its 
divisions  and  leading  arguments.  The  third  is  sub- 
stantially the  same  as  the  second,  with  the  difference 
that  it  is  still  more  meagre,  ,since  it  supposes  nothing 
but  a  few  moments'  refiection  before  entering  the  pid- 
pit.  The  ^tk  consists  in  briefly  -writing,  what  may 
1)6  called  the  substance  of  tlie  discourse  ;  indicating 
the  principal  ideas  which  it  is  to  contain,  their  order 
and  the  transition  from  one  to  another,  the  affections 
proper  to  be  excited  in  each  particular  part,  the  prin- 
cipal oratorical  movements,  and  the  most  striking  fig- 
ures to  be  employed  ;  without,  however,  developing 
any  of  these  ideas,  affections,  or  figures,  in  writing. 
And  tlie  fifth  consists  in  writing  the  whole  discourse 
and  committing  it  to  memory,  word  for  word. 


Five  MExnoDS  of  Prepaeing  a  Discourse.    107 

It  is  plain  that  these  five  methods  really  resolve 
themselves  into  two — writing  with  committing  to 
memory — and  preparing  without  penning  the  whole 
structure.  For  the  o-i-e;iter  elucidation  of  the  matter 
wc  shall,  however,  offer  a  few  simple  remarks  upon 
each  of  these  methods  of  preparation. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  in  this  place  that  we 
do  not  pretend  to  lay  down  absolute  laws  which  are 
to  bind  all  persons,  in  all  circumstances  whatsoever. 
We  merely  indicate  those  general  principles  Avhich  the 
great  mastei-s  of  sacred  oratory,  as  well  as  experience, 
point  out  as  the  fittest  and  safest  to  be  followed  in 
ordinary  circumstances  and  by  ordinaiy  persons  ;  leav- 
ing, as  we  must  necessarily  do,  their  aj^ plication  to 
peculiar  cases  to  the  prudence  and  experience  of  those 
who  are  actively  engaged  in  the  work  of  the  ministry, 
with  an  intimate  conviction  that  he  who  undertakes 
the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  with  that  purity  and  sim- 
plicity of  intention  which  alone  animate  the  true  ser- 
vant of  God,  will  never  commit  any  substantial  or  long- 
continued  mistake,  either  in  regard  to  his  style  of 
preaching,  or  the  nature  of  the  preparation  which  it 
demands  from  him. 

1.  We  venture  then  to  say,  in  the  first  place,  that 
he  who  has  talent  to  conceive,  and  time  to  compose, 
liis  own  sermons,  ought  not  to  allow  himself,  at  least 
at  all  frequently,  to  preach  the  sermons  of  another. 
Such  a  mode  of  action  proceeds  either  from  sloth,  since 


108    Five  Methods  of  Preparikg  a  Discourse. 

we  do  not  wish  to  undergo  the  hibour  and  pain  of 
composing  our  own  discourse,  or  from  vanity,  which 
prompts  iLS  to  acquire  the  reputation  of  great  preachers 
by  delivering  the  sermons  of  celebrated  men. 

We  cannot  expect  that  either  of  these  motives  will 
draw  down  upon  us  the  blessing  of  God.  But,  let  us 
suppose  for  a  moment,  that  we  are  animated  by  purer 
motives  than  these.  It  Avill  still  l)e  certain  that  the 
sermons  of  another  can  never  be  of  much  use  to  us. 
It  is  almost  impossible  that  they  can,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, be  adapted  to  the  capacit}'  and  peculiar 
needs  of  our  congregration.  It  is  still  less  likely  that 
they  will  be  adapted  to  our  peculiar  st^de  and  turn  of 
thouglit,  or  that  we  can  deliver  them  with  natural 
feeling,  ease,  and  grace.  We  have  dwelt  sufficiently 
on  this  point  when  ti'cating  of  the  practice  of  compo- 
sition and  the  imitation  of  good  models.  A  simple 
exhortation,  composed  according  to  our  capacity,  and 
delivered  with  unction  and  zeal,  will,  from  the  very 
fact  that  it  is  our  own,  be  vjistly  more  serviceable  than 
the  grandest  composition  of  another. 

Besides,  it  is  very  difficult  to  suppose  that,  some 
time  or  other,  the  plagiarism  will  not  be  discovered, 
and  ourselves  naturally  held  up  to  the  public  gaze  as 
men  who  were  either  too  ignorant  or  too  careless  to 
discharge  the  essential  duties  of  their  state  ;  jackdaws, 
to  use  the  familiar  fable,  who  sought  to  clothe  them- 
selves in  the  peacock's  feathers.     It  is  much  better 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    109 

and  much  more  mauly  to  attempt  to  compose  our  own 
discoui-ses  as  well  as  we  are  able.  They  will,  at  leixat, 
be  natural,  and,  in  as  far  as  they  are  natural,  they  will 
l)e  successful. 

Add  to  all  this,  that,  if  we  give  oui-selvcs  the  ha1)it 
of  delivering  the  sermons  of  another,  we  shall  gradually 
lose  the  power,  together  with  the  practice,  of  compo- 
sition ;  we  shall  become  unable  to  rely  upon  ourselves 
and  upon  the  resources  of  our  own  minds  for  our  con- 
ceptions and  ideas,  the  greatest  evil  which  can  fall 
upon  any  professional  man,  but,  above  all,  upon  the 
pastor  of  souls. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted  that,  when 
we  have  absolutely  neither  the  time  nor  the  power  to 
compose,  it  is  allowable  to  preach  the  discourses  of 
another,  provided  that  it  be  done  simply  from  a  motive 
of  zeal,  and  with  a  view  to  the  spiritual  good  of  our 
flock,  since  it  is  evident  that  it  is  better  that  they 
should  be  thus  instructed  than  left  without  any  instruc- 
tion whatsoever.  This  is  as  well  in  conformity  with 
the  advice  of  St.  Augustine,  as  it  was  the  practice  of 
many  bishops  in  the  early  ages  of  the  Church,  who 
caused  those  priests,  who  were  themselves  unable  to 
preach,  to  read  the  instructions  which  were  sent  to 
them,  in  order  that  the  people  might  not  be  left  with- 
out that  teaching  which  was  necessary  for  them,  and 
this  was  the  origin  of  the  instructions  which  are  found 
in  the  Ritual. 


110    Five  Methods  of  Peeparing  a  Discourse. 

However,  although  it  may  be  allowable  in  these  cir- 
cumstances to  preach  the  sermons  of  another,  the  pas- 
tor must  employ  many  wise  precautions  to  ward  off, 
as  much  as  possible,  the  inevitable  inconveniences  of 
this  system.  He  must  not  select  disconnected  frag- 
ments, still  less  those  well-known  and  brilliant  pas- 
sages which  would  be  recognized  at  once.  Neither 
must  he  make  choice  of  any  matter  on  which  he  can 
lay  his  hand,  collected  hither  and  thither,  without 
unity  and  without  taste.  If  he  do,  he  will  be  in  the 
predicament  which  befel  a  certain  preacher  of  our 
acquaintance,  who  came  to  us  one  day  in  great  per- 
plexity to  consult  us  on  the  subject  of  a  sermon.  "  I 
have  taken  great  pains,"  said  he,  "  to  write  out  twelve 
or  thirteen  pages  from  various  French  sermon  books, 
and,  now,  after  all  my  trouble,  I  canU  make  tliem  fitP 
But  he,  who,  for  a  just  cause,  makes  use  of  the  ser- 
mon of  another,  must  in  the  first  place  be  careful  to 
select  such  a  one  as  will  be  best  adapted  to  his  liock, 
and  equally  careful  to  expunge  from  it  whatever  may 
not  be  suitable  to  them.  He  must  bear  in  mind  that 
the  greater  part  of  the  sermons  which  are  published, 
more  especially  those  in  the  French  language,  having 
been  composed  for  the  court,  or  for  great  cities,  are 
wiitten  in  a  style  which  is  above  the  comprehension 
of  simple  and  milettered  persons,  and  treat  of  vices  to 
which  in  all  probability  they  are  not  subject. 

The  golden  rule  in  these  circumstances  is,  to  select 


Five  Methods  of  Preparixg  a  Discouese.    Ill 

the  most  simple  dlscoui-ses  which  the  preacher  can 
iind.  Not  only  must  he  be  careful  to  choose  such  an 
instruction  as,  omnibus  pensatis,  will  be  most  useful 
to  his  flock,  but  the  pastor  must  be  equally  careful  to 
select  such  a  one  as  ynW  be  best  adapted  to  his  own 
peculiar  temperament,  character,  and  style.  He  will 
endeavour  to  become  penetrated  with  those  sentiments 
and  affections  which  it  may  contain,  in  order  to  ren- 
der them  his  own  as  much  as  possible  when  he  delivers 
tiieni.  As  we  have  already  said,  he  labours  under  no 
ordinary  difiiculty  in  this  matter,  since  the  composi- 
tion of  another  can  hardly  ever  become  perfectly 
natural  in  the  mouth  of  him  who  thus  makes  use  of 
it,  or  perfectly  express  his  turn  of  thought  and  his 
manner  of  conceiving  a  subject ;  whilst,  at  the  same 
time,  these  qualities  seem  to  be  essential  to  success. 
Hence,  in  conclusion,  although  we  have  laid  down 
the  circumstances  in  which  it  may  sometimes  be  allowa- 
1)le  to  preach  the  sermons  of  another,  and  the  princi- 
pal precautious  which  are  to  be  observed  in  doing  so; 
we  earnestly  recommend  the  young  preacher  never  to 
resort  to  this  expedient  so  long  as  he  is  able  to  deliver 
a  discourse  of  his  own,  no  matter  how  simple  its  style, 
or  how  elementary  its  character,  provided  it  possess 
those  fundamental  qualities  which  can  never  be  dispens- 
ed with — solid  instruction  earnestly  delivered. 

If  it  be  the  fruit  of  his  own  honest  labour  God  will 
surely  bless  the  work  of  his  hands,  and  render  his  sim- 


112    Five  Methods  of  Prepaeing  a  Discouese. 

pie  discourse  a  thousand  times  more  successful  and 
more  fruitful  than  those  polished  sentences  and  those 
rounded  periods  which  may,  indeed,  issue  from  his 
lips,  but  which  can  scarcely  ever,  if  ever,  be  uttered 
with  that  eloquence  which  can  alone  move  the  elo- 
quence of  the  heaii ;  that  eloquence  which  must 
almost  always  be  wanting  when  a  man  merely  repeats 
the  language  and  sentiments  of  another. 

2,  We  venture,  in  the  next  place,  to  say  that  there 
are  very  few  occasions  on  which  a  clergyman  ought 
to  satisf}"  himself  with  merely  tracing  out  a  meagre 
skeleton  of  his  discourse,  simply  indicating  its  divi- 
sions and  the  heads  of  its  leadino^  aro-uments.'  Our 
opinion  is  founded  on  the  conviction  that  the  preacher, 
ceilainly  the  young  one,  who  makes  no  other  prepara- 
tion than  this,  is  exposing  himself  to  the  imminent 
risk  of  preaching  the  divine  word  in  such  a  manner, 
as  will  neither  be  worthy  of  his  ministry,  nor  useful 
to  souls.  There  are  veiy  few  preachers  wlio  can 
reasonably  promise  themselves  that,  with  such  a  pre- 
paration as  this,  they  will  be  able  to  address  their  peo- 
ple solidly  or  clearly,  or  impart  to  their  discourse  that 
order,  interest,  and  force,  which  are  due  alike  to  the 
dignity  of  the  Word  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 
They  are  much  more  likely  to  be  overwhelmed  with 
that  sterility  of  mind,  dryness  of  heart,  and  utter 
absence  of  eveiything  like  vigour  or  force,  which  will 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    113 

render  their  sermon  useless,  perhaps  even  worse  than 
useless. 

3.  Even  supposing  a  clerg3anan  to  be  bona  fide 
inuible  to  write  his  discourse,  or  exempt,  by  his  tal- 
ents or  experience,  fronj  doing  so,  we  do  not  think  it 
sufficient  simply  to  meditate  on  his  sul)ject  for  a  few 
moments  before  entering  the  pulpit.  He  should, 
moreover,  carefully  determine  the  matter  of  his  dis- 
course, the  plan  and  whole  order  of  its  arrangement. 

This  is  merely  a  development  of  the  idea  laid  down 
in  the  preceding  section — viz.,  that  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  speak  with  such  a  preparation,  or,  more  strictly, 
with  such  an  absence  of  it,  as  was  there  indicated, 
without  failing  in  the  respect  due  to  God  and  our 
ministry ;  without  falling  into  inextricable  disorder 
and  confusion. 

If  we  are  not  able  to  write  our  discourse,  the  very 
least  we  can  do  is,  to  spai'e  no  effort  that  is  jjossible 
under  the  circumstances,  to  secure  order  and  methodi- 
cal arrangement,  to  give  expression  to  some  ideas  that 
may  be  solid,  and  some  sentiments  that  may  be  becom- 
ing, to  bring  some  appropriate  passages  of  Scripture 
to  bear  upon  om*  subject,  and  to  confine  ourselves 
within  such  limits  as  may  be  fitting,  since  diffuseness 
is  one  of  the  most  common  and  trying  fellings  of  those 
who  speak  withoiit  careful  preparation. 

It  is  true  that  Fenelon,  in  one  of  his  dialogues  on 

the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit,  seems  to  write  in  com- 

8 


114    Five  Methods  of  Prepaking  a  Discouese. 

menclation  of  those  who  preach  without  having  writ- 
ten their  discourse  ;  but,  as  we  shall  show  in  the  next 
section,  we  equally  agree  with  him  in  the  sense  in 
which  he  speaks,  and  luider  the  restrictions  which  he 
employs.  As  he  himself  says,  he  speaks  of  "  a  man 
Avho  is  well  instructed  and  who  has  a  great  facility  of 
expressing  himself ;  a  man  who  has  meditated  deeply, 
in  all  their  bearings,  the  principles  of  the  sulyect  which 
he  is  to  treat ;  who  has  conceived  that  subject  in  his 
intellect  and  arranged  his  arguments  in  the  clearest 
manner  ;  who  has  prepared  a  certain  number  of  strik- 
ing; fio;ures  and  of  touching  sentiments  which  may 
render  it  sensible  and  bring  it  home  to  his  hearers  ; 
who  knows  perfectly  all  that  he  ought  to  say,  and  the 
precise  place  in  which  to  say  it,  so  that  nothing  remains, 
at  the  moment  of  delivery,  but  to  find  Avords  with 
which  to  express  himself"  As  we  shall  presently  show, 
this  is,  for  certain  persons,  and  with  certain  restrictions, 
a  most  excellent  manner  of  preparing  an  instruction  ; 
but  it  differs  very  widely  from  that  which  consists  in 
merelv  meditatino;  on  our  matter  for  a  few  moments 
before  entering  the  pulpit.     Hence, 

4.  We  admit  that  after  a  person  has  written  his  ser- 
mbns  for  some  years,  and  thus  acquired  a  profound 
and  at  the  same  time  expedite  knowledge  of  the  mj^s- 
teries  of  our  Holy  Faith,  together  with  an  ease  and 
facility  of  speaking  in  public,  it  is  not  only  alloAvable, 
but  it  may  be  even  more  advisable,  to  be  content  with 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    115 

that  summaiy  preparation  which  consists  in  writing, 
what  may  be  called,  the  substance  of  the  discourse  ; 
indicating  the  leading  ideas  which  it  is  to  contain, 
their  order  and  the  transition  from  one  to  another  ; 
the  affections  proper  to  be  excited  in  each  particular 
part ;  the  principal  oratorical  movements  and  the  most 
striking  figures  to  be  employed  ;  without,  however, 
developing  these  ideas,  affections,  or  figures,  in  Avriting. 
We  will  briefly  state  the  reason  on  which  we  rely 
for  this  assertion.  We  take  it  for  granted  that  the 
extemporary  sermon,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word 
(and  in  another  part  of  this  work  we  shall  show  that 
the  true  meaning  of  an  extemporary  sermon  is  not,  as 
is  generally  understood,  a  discourse  delivered  without 
preparation,  but  a  discourse  carefully  prepared  as  to 
its  substance,  although  not  written  out  in  all  its  parts,) 
will  be  as  a  general  rule,  and  with  the  necessaiy  quali- 
fications, positis  poneiidis,  more  successful  than  one 
which  is  wi'itten  and  delivered  from  memoiy.  The 
written  sermon  delivered  from  memoiy,  must  always 
be  to  a  certain  extent  stiff'  and  formal.  The  extem- 
porary sermon,  on  the  other  hand,  is  delivered  with 
an  earnestness  which  proves  that  we  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  conviction,  and  with  a  wannth  which  goes  at 
once  to  the  hearts  of  our  hearers.  The  preacher  who 
delivers  from  memoiy  a  sermon  which  he  has  written, 
always  has,  with  some  rare  exceptions,  the  appearance 
of  a  school-boy  repeating  a  task,  more  or  less  perfectly, 


116    Five  Methods  op  Peeparij^g  a  Discourse. 

since  it  is  veiy  uncommon,  indeed,  to  find  any  one  who 
thoroughly  overcomes  this  ahiiost  inevitable  inconve- 
nience of  such  a  system.  The  extemporary  discourse 
is  delivered  in  such  a  natural  manner  as  gains  the  con- 
fidence of  our  hearers,  diverts  their  attention  from  the 
mere  fonii  of  our  matter  and  turns  it  full  upon  its  sub- 
stance, thus  disposing  them  to  profit  more  deeply  and 
efficaciously  by  our  instruction.  The  preacher  l3eing 
released  from  the  necessity  of  keeping  a  constant  and 
strained  watch  upon  the  mere  words  of  his  discourse, 
lest  he  forget  them  and  with  them  lose  the  whole 
thread  of  his  argument^  is  at  once  more  free  and  more 
vigorous  in  his  action.  He  is  able  to  give  the  rein  to 
his  zeal  and  yet  keep  it  within  due  limits.  His  words, 
springing  immediately  and  on  the  spur  of  the  moment 
from  his  heart,  are  living  and  full  of  energy.  The 
warmth  with  which  he  is  animated  impails  to  his 
figures  and  his  sentiments  an  earnestness,  reality,  and 
depth,  which  they  would  have  acquired  from  no 
amount  of  mere  technical  study.  He  is  at  libei-ty  to 
proportion  his  discourse  to  the  eficct  which  he  wishes 
to  produce  ;  he  is  able  to  follow  and  keej)  pace  with 
that  impression  ;  to  insist  upon,  and  develop  still  more 
forcibly,  those  points  which  he  perceives  to  have  struck 
home :  to  present  in  other  shapes,  and  mider  more 
sensible  forms,  those  which  he  perceives  to  have  fallen 
short  of  their  aim.  These  constitute  some  of  the 
principal  advantages  which  the  extemporary  possesses 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    117 

over  the  sermon  Avritten  and  delivered  from  memory  ; 
for,  of  coiu"se,  we  make  no  mention  of  that  which  is 
merely  read  fiom  a  book.  In  no  sense  of  tlie  word 
can  such  a  performance  be  called  a  sermon^  neither 
will  the  taste  of  the  present  day,  whatever  may  have 
been  the  custom  of  fomier  times,  tolerate  it.  It  is 
tedious  in  the  extreme,  and  it  must  be  practically  use- 
less, since  it  is  next  to  impossible  that  it  can  be 
adapted  to  either  preacher  or  congregation. 

Whilst,  however,  the  extemporary  sennon,  as  we 
understand  it,  has  its  decided  advantages,  it  is  also  ex- 
pQsed  to  some  inconveniences  of  a  very  serious  char- 
acter. These  are  principally  a  want  of  correctness, 
either  in  doctrine  or  composition,  and  a  want  of  order. 
These  inconveniences  are  met  by  the  qualities  of  age, 
of  talents,  and  of  experience,  which  we  require  in 
those  who  may  justly  essay  to  speak  with  merely  that 
summary  or  substantial  preparation  which  we  have 
attempted  to  describe  under  this  heading.  But,  as 
these  qualities,  so  essential  and  indispensable,  not 
merely  to  success,  but  to  absolute  correctness  of  doc- 
trinal teaching,  can  scarcely  be  expected  to  be  found 
in  the  ecclesiastical  student,  or  young  preacher,  we 
venture  to  advance  another  proposition,  viz.  : 

5.  That  it  is  necessary  to  write  our  sermons,  or  at 
least  the  greater  number  of  them,  and  commit  them 
to  memory  in  the  way  to  be  hereafter  explained,  until 
such  time  as  we  shall  have  treated  the  principal  Mys- 


118    Five  Methods  of  Pkepakixg  a  Discourse. 

teries  of  the  Faith,  shall  have  acquired  an  expedite, 
clear,  and  solid  knowledge  of  Christian  doctrine ; 
together  with  a  great  facility  of  delivering  it  to  others 
in  an  easy,  pleasing,  and,  above  all,  earnest  manner. 

This  proposition  requii-es  very  little  explanation  at 
our  hands,  since  all  that  has  been  advanced  in  this 
chapter  has  tended,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  to 
the  development  or  establishment  of  it.  We  have  en- 
forced to  the  best  of  our  ability  the  absolute  necessity 
of  preparation,  and,  in  dcA^eloping  the  various  methods 
of  preparing,  we  have  substantially  proved  that  this 
is  the  only  one  on  which  we  can  rely,  or  which. is 
really  worthy  the  name,  so  far  at  least  as  the  young 
preacher  is  concerned.  In  conclusion,  we  will  merely 
glance  once  more  at  the  immense  disadvantaoes  to 
which  the  young  preacher  who  follows  any  other 
method  exposes  himself. 

Let  him  be  quite  certain,  there  are  veiy  few  young 
clergymen  whose  talent  is  sufficiently  cultivated,  or 
who  possess  such  experience,  as  fits  them  to  preach 
the  word  of  God  in  a  becoming  and  efiective  manner, 
without  first  writing  their  sennon.  As  a  general  rule, 
those  who  attempt  to  do  so  speak  without  exactness, 
precision,  order,  or  plan;  of  couree,  they  may  succeed 
in  talking,  but  we  speak  of  the  preaching  of  God's 
word,  as  God  expects  it  to  be  done.  If  they  have 
any  plan  whatever  in  their  discourse  they  frequently 
lose  sight  of  it  by  tedious  and  worse  than  useless  di 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    119 

gressions.  At  one  time  they  weary  their  hearei-s  by 
their  vain  prolixity,  at  another  put  them  to  pain  aud 
confusion  by  their  laboured  efforts  to  find  expression; 
;ind  thus  the  discourse,  havmg  neither  solidity  of 
matter  nor  grace  of  delivery  to  recommend  it,  brings 
neither  gloiy  to  God  nor  advantage  to  souls. 

Even  supposing  the  young  preacher  to  possess  in 
radice  the  faculty  of  speaking  well,  let  him  be  con- 
vinced that  he  must  be  content  to  develop  it  in  the 
commencement  by  writing.  No  matter  how  brilliant 
his  talent,  or  keen  his  intellect,  he  will  not  be  able  to 
cultivate  the  one  or  the  other  in  the  most  profitable 
manner,  except  by  a  good  deal  of  laborious  commit- 
ting of  his  conceptions  to  j^aper,  and  a  still  more 
laborious  working  of  them  out.  This  may,  of  course, 
impose  some  restraint  upon  his  imagination,  and  im- 
part some  momentary  stiffness  to  his  style  and  deliv- 
ery. But,  these  are  merely  transitory  l^lemishes. 
The}''  will  melt  away  before  the  warmth  of  his  grow- 
ing genius,  and  of  the  talents  which  have  ])een  thus 
carefully  nurtured  and  developed,  till,  in  a  short  time, 
not  a  vestio;e  of  them  will  remain:  whilst,  on  the  other 
hand,  if,  to  save  himself  trouble,  or  through  natural 
disinclination,  he  shirk  this  necessary  lal)our  in  the 
beginning,  no  amount  of  polish  or  mere  facility  will  ever 
supply  the  want  of  that  order,  solidity,  and  clearness, 
which  must  be  acquired  in  youth,  if  ever,  and  which 
is  only  acquired  in  the  manner  we  have  described. 


120    Five  Methods  of  Pkeparing  a  Discoukse. 

Hence  it  is  that  we  impress  so  strenuously  upon  ec- 
clesiastical students  to  turn  the  years  of  their  college 
course  to  the  veiy  best  account,  since  this  is  their 
golden  opportunity  as  regards  the  study  of  sacred  elo- 
quence. Hence  it  is  that  we  impress  upon  them  again 
and  again  to  bear  in  mind  during  their  season  of  pro- 
bation, and  during  the  first  years  of  their  priesthood, 
the  wise  advice  of  Cicero,  Caput  est,  quaniplurimum 
sa^bere. 

And  now  let  us  glance  for  a  moment  at  the  great 
advantages  of  this  system  of  careful  and  accurate  pre- 
paration. 

In  the  first  place,  it  enables  the  preacher  to  lay  up 
a  fund  of  most  useful  and  essential  matter  which  he 
will  find  it  most  difiicult,  if  not  impossible,  to  acquire 
later  on  in  life;  since  he  who  does  not  write  in  the 
commencement,  and  until  he  has  treated  the  greater 
portion  of  the  mysteries  and  doctrine  of  our  holy 
Faith,  loses  the  principal  fruit  of  his  studies  and  of 
his  labours,  and  each  time  that  he  begins  to  prepare  a 
sermon,  he  has  to  commence  anew  from  the  veiy 
foundation,  a  labour  which  as  he  advances  in  life  he  is 
very  unlikely  to  undertake,  but  which  is  none  the  less 
essential  on  that  account. 

In  the  second  place,  by  thus  preparing  himself  the 
young  preacher  perfects,  nourishes,  and  develops  the 
talent  for  preaching  which  Almighty  God  may  have 
bestowed  upon  him,  in  a  higher  or  lower  degree  ac- 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    121 

cording  to  His  good  pleasure,  but  with  the  intention 
and  sole  purpose  that  the  talent,  whatever  it  be,  which 
He  has  entrusted  to  His  servant  be  turned  to  the  very 
best  account. 

In  obliging  himself  to  write,  the  young  preacher, 
as  we  have  already  shown,  obliges  himself  to  express 
his  ideas  in  the  most  correct  manner.  He  shai'pens 
the  powei's  of  his  intellect  in  thus  compelling  himself 
to  arrange  his  thoughts  in  orderly  and  logical  coher- 
ence, and  to  render  his  reasoning  closer,  and  more  pre- 
cise; w^hilst  he  cultivates  and  develops  his  taste  by 
attending  to  the  perfect  harmony  and  beauty  of  the 
general  march  of  his  discourse,  to  the  purity  of  its 
style,  to  the  justness  of  its  conception,  and  to  the  ele- 
gance of  its  expression.  The  more  he  studies  his  sub- 
ject, as  a  natural  consequence,  the  more  perfectly  he 
treats  it;  and  thus,  after  a  little  labour,  painful  per- 
haps in  the  beginning,  and  a  little  diligent  care  never 
to  speak  without  such  preparation  as  becomes  the 
Masier  whom  he  serves  and  the  holy  work  entrusted 
to  his  hand,  he  will  by  degrees,  quickly  and  almost 
insensibly,  acquire  the  habit  of  speaking  well,  of 
preaching  the  word  of  God  m  dignity  and  in  power 
W'ithout  eflbit  and  without  labom*,  except  such  as  that 
which  a  right-minded  and  conscientious  man  will  ever 
bestoAv  upon  any  work  wdiich  he  undertakes,  or,  is 
bound  to  discharge  for  God. 

Let  him  neglect  to  take  this  necessaiy  trouble,  to 


123    Five  Methods  of  Peepaking  a  Discourse. 

undergo  this  essential  labour,  in  the  commencement 
of  his  ecclesiastical  career,  and  he  will  never  repair 
the  injury  which  he  will  thus  inflict  upon  the  acci- 
dental glory  of  God,  upon  the  eternal  interests  of  his 
own  immortal  soul,  and  the  souls  of  those  for  whom 
he  must  answer  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ. 
When  disinclination  or  any  .human  or  unbecoming 
motive  may  tempt  him  to  omit  this  labour,  to  shirk 
this  perhaps  paiul\il  preparation,  let  him  think  of  the 
dreadful  day  to  come  when  he  shall  not  dare  to  look 
upon  his  Master's  face  unless  he  can  say  with  the 
Apostle  of  the  Nations,  Afundus  sum  a  sanguine  om- 
nium ;  non  enim  s^ihterfagi  quominus  annuntiarem 
omne  consilium  Dei  vobis* 

To  sum  up,  then,  in  a  few  words.  Whilst  we  admit 
that  there  are  some  who  may  not  require  a  more  elab- 
orate preparation,  in  order  to  preach  well,  than  such 
a  one  as  we  have  described  under  No.  4  of  this  chap- 
ter, we  take  it  for  granted  that  the  young  preacher 
will,  during  the  first  years  of  his  ministry,  write  at 
least  a  considerable  number  of  his  sermons.  The 
lectures  in  this  work  have  been  dra^vn  up  and  pre- 
pared under  this  supposition,  and  primarily  with  a 
view  to  aid  the  student  or  young  preacher  in  compos- 
ing his  discourse.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  hoped  that 
they  will  be  scarcely  less  useful  to  those  who,  from 
age,  experience,  or  talent,  may  be  excused  from  such 
*  Act.  XX,  26. 


Five  Methods  of  Preparing  a  Discourse.    123 

u  formal  method  of  preparation;  since  tliese,  equally 
with  those,  will  carefully  arrange  the  plan  of  their 
discoui'se  and  secure  its  essential  lun'ty,  follow  the 
same  rules  of  ai'gumentation,  and  adopt  the  same 
means  of  pei-suasion.  The  only  difference  will  be  that 
the  young  preacher  Avill,  for  the  reasons  assigned,  re- 
duce his  ideas  to  wi'ilten  words,  whilst  his  elder  in  the 
ministiy  will  content  himself  with  a  more  purely  men- 
tal development  of  his  conceptions,  and  will  trust,  at 
least  substantially,  to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment 
for  the  spoken  words  with  which  to  express  them. 

Such,  so  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  collect  and  in- 
terpret them,  are  the  leading  principles  laid  do^^ni  by 
the  great  mastei"s  of  Sacred  Eloquence  on  this  matter 
of  the  necessity,  and  the  various  methods,  of  prepar- 
ing a  discourse.  It  is  neither  our  province  nor  our 
wish  to  dogmatize  on  this  subject,  any  more  than  it 
would  be  becoming  in  us  to  pretend  to  lay  down  gen- 
eral laws  which  should  suffer  no  exceptions.  '\\q 
necessarily  confine  ourselves  to  this  brief,  and  what  we 
believe  to  be,  correct  exposition  of  these  general  prin- 
ciples; leading  their  special  application  to  the  pru- 
dence, discretion,  and,  above  all,  to  the  earnest  zeal, 
of  the  pastor  of  souls. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PROPER  TIME  I^^  WHICH  TO  WRITE. 

jAVING  fixed  upon  his  subject,  having 
studied  it  deeply  and  collected  a  mass  of 
matter  bearing  upon  it,  having  by  a  skilful 
and  orderly  plan  secured  unity  of  view 
and  unity  of  means,  the  young  pi-eacher  now  proceeds 
to  a  most  essential  part  of  his  preparation,  to  one 
on  which  his  success  principally  depends,  viz.,  the 
actual  composition  of  his  sermon,  the  perfect  ren- 
dering in  words  of  those  vigorous  ideas  which 
lie  has  already  conceived,  and  of  those  deep 
emotions  which  his  subject  has  already  called 
into  being.  It  is  now  that  he  is  to  impart  to 
his  discourse  proportion  and  harmony,  grace  and 
strength,  dignity  and  unction.  It  is  now  that  he  is 
to  paint  nature,  and  to  animate  his  figures  Avith  a  liv- 
ing soul.  It  is  now  that,  by  the  charms  of  his  stjde, 
he  is  to  clothe  his  skeleton  in  robes  so  rich  and  pure 
as  may  render  his  sermon  truly  efficacious  to  instruct, 
to  please,  and  to  move  his  audience  to  the  practice  of 
all  Christian  virtue  in  its  highest  degree.  To  secure 
this  happy  result  he  must  follow  ceilain  practical 


The  Proper  Time  in  which  to  Write.      125 

rules,  ever  Ijcaring  in  mind  that  his  object  is,  not  to 
form  a  purely  artificial  system,  but  to  peifect  that 
which  flows  from  and  is  fouded  in  njiture,  to  raise  it 
to  its  highest  pitch  of  excellence, 

1.  The  skilful  orator  never  writes  except  when  his 
heart  is  warmed  to  his  work,  and  he  feels  full  of  it. 
To  wish  to  compose  when  the  intellect,  the  heart,  and 
the  imagination  are  silent ;  when  we  feel  ourselves 
cold,  sterile,  or  without  inclination  for  this  kind  of 
work  ;  is  simply  to  lose  our  time,  to  break  our  head 
without  any  result. 

It  is  impossible  to  succeed,  or  to  attain  any  degree 
of  excellence,  unless  we  write  fervente  calamo,  when 
our  heart  is  full  of  our  subject,  when  we  feel  an  irresist- 
ible impulse,  so  to  speak,  to  give  expression  to  those 
ideas  which  are  burning  within  our  breasts,  and  to  act 
upon  our  fellow-men.  This,  and  this  alone,  is  the  time 
when  a  man  can  write  with  vigour,  and  gi\e  expres- 
sion to  thoughts  which  will  move  the  hearts  of  his 
hearers  to  their  very  depths.  It  is  then  that  words 
pour  upon  him,  and  the  richest  colours  flow  from  his 
pencil.  Hence  it  is  that  the  skilful  orator  writes  down 
on  the  instant  whatever  his  intellect,  his  heart,  his 
imagination,  his  sensibility,  suggests  to  him  as  par- 
ticularly useful,  striking,  or  moving  on  his  subject. 
He  develops  these  ideas  according  to  the  inspiration 
of  the  moment,  without  troubling  himself  about  mere 
coiTectness  of  style.     He  seizes  those  happy  moments 


12G     The  Propee  Time  in  which  to  Write. 

of  inspiration  when  the  soiil,  full  even  to  overflowing 
with  its  subject,  seems  to  solicit  him  to  give  expression 
to  the  ideas  and  sentiments  with  which  it  is  penetrated, 
whilst  the  heart,  all  on  fire,  dictates  the  composition 
M  hich  he  seems  rather  to  receive  than  to  produce,  and 
which  he  receives  in  such  abundance  that  the  pen  can 
scarcely  keep  pace  with  the  rapidity  of  his  thoughts. 

The  greatest  orator  is  the  man  who  best  knows  how 
to  seize  these  happy  moments  and  turn  them  to  great- 
est account.  That  which  is  composed  in  these  favoura- 
ble circumstances,  is  worth  more  than  hours  of  laboured 
writing  and  of  studied  diction,  because  it  is  the  fruit 
of  a  heart  that  is  deeply  moved  ;  and  when  the  heart 
of  the  preacher  is  thus  moved  it  will  speak  to  the 
hearts  of  his  hearers  with  a  force,  a  reality,  and  a  fruit, 
Avhich  all  the  rules  of  rhetoric  could  never  teach  it. 

It  is  most  essential,  then,  when  we  feel  ourselves 
thus  happily  moved  by  our  subject,  not  to  allow  our 
intellect  to  become  distracted,  or  our  heart  to  grow 
cold  ;  but  to  turn  to  the  utmost  profit  the  precious 
moments  which,  once  lost,  may  never  return.  To 
guard  against  this  danger  of  growing  cold,  and  of  los- 
ing our  grasp  upon  our  subject,  we  should  write  down 
i-apidly  everything  that  presents  itself  to  us,  without 
troublina:  ourselves  about  the  exactness  or  the  finish 
of  our  expressions,  without  occupying  ourselves  unduly 
about  the  rules  of  rhetoric,  the  polish  of  our  style,  or 
the  elegiuice  of  our  words.     The  great  thing  is  to  seize 


The  Proper  Time  in  which  to  Write.      1:27 

the  thought,  and  whilst  the  fire  of  inspiration  is  burn- 
ing within  our  breasts,  to  nourish  it  more  and  more 
eagerly  that  Ave  may  make  it  efficacious  for  procuring 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  immortal  souls. 
If  we  neglect  to  grasp  this  happy  thought  at  the  fit- 
ting moment  it  may  never  recur  to  us,  whilst  defects 
of  style  and  inelegances  of  expression  can  readily  be 
repaired  at  any  time,  during  the  revision  and  correc- 
tion of  our  composition. 

The  writer  will  hardly  secure  this  inspiration,  as  we 
have  called  it,  this  happy  moving  of  the  deepest  pow- 
ers of  his  soul,  without  writing  for  a  good  while  at 
one  sitting.  Some  young  writers  seem  to  think  that 
it  is  sufiicieut  to  devote  any  odd  moments,  any  spare 
half-hours,  to  the  composition  of  their  sermons.  No 
nu'stake  could  be  more  fatal  to  success  than  this.  Even 
those  most  versed  in  composition  require  to  write  some 
time  before  they  warm  to  their  subject,  before  they  are 
thoroughly  inspired  b}^  it.  We  venture  to  say  that 
the  greatest  orators  who  have  moved  the  hearts  of 
men  would  have  laughed  at  the  idea  of  composing 
their  sermons  in  spare  half-hours.  How  foolish,  then, 
for  mere  novices  to  aspire  to  a  success  which  the  very 
masters  in  Israel  could  not  have  achieved  by  such 
means  ! 

We  venture  also  to  say  to  the  young  writer,  that  it 
is  scarcely  worth  his  while  to  sit  down  to  his  desk, 
miless  he  can  secure  at  least  an  hour  or  two  at  one  sit- 


128      The  Peoper  Time  ik  which  to  Write. 

ting.  Ill  odd  moments,  at  spare  half-hours,  he  may 
of  course  compose  a  certain  number  of  cold  sentences, 
and  string  together  a  ceiiain  amount  of  vapid  ideas 
and  empty  platitudes.  Let  him  not  flatter  himself 
that  it  is  thus  that  he  can  conceive  those  burning 
thoughts,  those  convincing  reasons,  those  deep  emo- 
tions, which,  setting  his  own  heart  on  fire,  will  impart 
some  portion  of  its  flames  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers, 
and  thus  secure  the  highest,  the  holiest,  and  the 
noblest  ends  of  sacred  oratory.  If  he  hope  to  succeed 
l)y  any  such  half-anjl-half  preparation,  he  is  but  mis- 
erably deceiving  himself,  and  laying  up  a  store  of 
future  failure,  of  bitter  disappointment,  and,  worst  of 
all,  of  utter  uselessuess  in  the  service  of  God  ;  so  far, 
at  least,  as  one  of  thd  most  important  means  of  advanc- 
ing those  sacred  interests  which  his  Master  has  placed 
in  his  hands  is  concerned.  v. 

2.  It  is  in  praj'er  and  meditation  that  the  preacher 
seeks  to  fill  himself  with  his  subject,  and  to  acquire 
that  true  warmth  of  feeling  and  expression  which  alone 
become  the  Christian  orator.  If,  after  prayerful  con- 
sideration of  his  subject,  he  find  himself  cold  and  in- 
sensible, he  will  defer  his  comiDosition  to  some  more 
favoured  time.  Tliat  which  will  not  come  at  one 
moment  may  come  at  another,  and  come  in  abundant 
profusion. 

3.  Written  composition  ought  to  be  distinguished 
principally  by  clearness,  jDurity,  and  variety. 


The  Proper  Time  in  which  to  Write.     129 

By  clearness  we  understand  thut  quality  which  ron- 
del's a  composition  perfectly  lucid  in  conception  and 
in  expression,  in  argnmentation  and  in  the  general 
order  and  connection  of  the  whole  ;  so  that  it  is  pre- 
sented to  the  mind,  even  of  the  illiterate  and  simple, 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  perfectly  intelligible,  with- 
out obscurity  or  mistiness. 

It  is  pure  when  rt  is  written  according  to  the  ap- 
proved rules  of  rhetoric,  both  as  regards  composition 
and  style. 

There  is  a  variety  when  the  style  is  modified  in 
accordance  with  the  subject  treated,  and  the  different 
parts  of  the  discourse.  Thus,  in  the  simple  explana- 
tion of  principles  the  style  should  be  plain  and  una- 
dorned ;  flowing  and  unembarrassed  in  narration  ;  ner- 
vous and  close  in  argument ;  strong  and  rapid  in  the 
appeal  to  the  passions.  Subjects  which  are  full  of 
feeling  do  not  admit  a  pompous  or  laboured  style,  but 
one  which  embraces  sentiment  and  pathos.  Subjects 
which  have  their  inspiration  in  the  imagination,  strictly 
so  called,  find  their  expression  in  a  polished,  pictur- 
esque, and  figurative  style.  Grand  subjects  require 
the  grand  style  ;  that  which  has  its  foundation  in  the 
greatness  of  the  preacher's  soul,  and  the  elevated  tone 
of  his  sentiments  ;  that  which  displays  lofty  thoughts, 
deep  emotions,  and  beautiful  figures,  expressed  in  cor- 
responding language.  Simple  subjects  rely  for  their 
eflfect  solely  upon  justness  of  thought,  neatness  of  com- 


130      The  Pkopek  Time  i^s'  which  to  Write. 

position,  and  absence  of  any  apparent  effort  to  please. 
This  variety  must  flow  from,  and  find  its  inspiration 
in,  nature.  When  we  perceive  that  it  is  failing,  and 
our  composition  is  becoming  monotonous  and  dull,  it 
is  well  to  lay  our  pen  aside  for  a  little  while  and  betake 
ourselves  to  meditation,  that  we  may  rekindle  the 
sacred  fire  of  inspiration,  and  thus  impart  to  every 
thought  that  character  and  warmth  which  alone  can 
render  it  telling  and  efficacious.  As  we  shall  treat  of 
the  style  of  pulpit  eloquence  in  a  special  chapter,  it 
would  be  useless  to  enter  more  fully  into  this  question 
at  present. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

INTRODUCTION  OF  THE  DISGOUHSE. 

ICERO  aucl  most  of  the  older  rhetoricians, 
assign  six  parts  to  an  oration, — Exordinm, 
Narration,  Proposition  including  Division, 
Proof,  Refutation,  and  Peroration,  or  Pathe- 
tic Part.  Many  of  the  formal  sermon  Aviiters  of  the 
last  centuiy  follow  the  same  order,  which  is  also  that 
laid  down  by  Blair  in  his  Lectures  on  Belles  Lettres. 
We  shall  adopt  a  division  which,  although  more  sim- 
ple, is  for  all  practical  purposes,  mutatis  mutandis; 
substantially  the  same,  and  describe  a  sermon  as  com- 
posed of  three  leading  paiis: — I.  Exordium,  or  intro- 
duction ;  II.  The  Body  of  the  Discourse,  or  Argumen- 
tative Part  ;  and.  III.  The  Pathetic  Part,  or  Perora- 
tion. We  lay  these  down  as  the  essential  parts  of  a 
sermon,  and,  by  a  sermon,  too,  we  understand  in  this 
place,  a  "set  sermon,"  or  foi-mal  discom-se. 

We  do  not  pretend  to  say  that  a  preacher  is  bound, 
or  that  it  is  even  desirable,  to  deliver  "  set  sennons'' 
on  every  occasion.  Still,  there  are  many  occasions 
when  such  a  discourse  is  expected  by  a  congregation, 
and  is  due  to  them  ;  and,  as  those  familiar  instructions 


132  Intkoduction  of  the  Discoukse. 

which  will  be  delivered  on  ordinary  Sundays  difler 
from  the  "  set  sermon,"  not  in  the  substantial  ordet^  of 
their  arrangement,  but  in  the  greater  simplicity  of  their 
style  and  manner  of  treatment,  we  lay  these  down  as 
the  essential  paiiB  of  every  discourse,  in  genere,  since 
the  familiar  instruction,  equally  with  the  "  set  sermon," 
will  comprise  an  introduction,  an  instructive  and  argu- 
mentative part,  and  an  effort  at  persuasion,  or,  the 
moving  of  our  audience  to  the  adoption  of  good  reso- 
lutions, which  is  the  special  object  of  the  Peroration 
or  Pathetic  part.  With  these  preliminary  remarks 
we  now  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  the  paiis  or 
members  of  a  discourse. 

The  Exordium  or  introduction  comprises  three  lead- 
ing points,  the  Text,  the  Exordium,  strictly  so  called, 
oi»  Introduction  of  the  subject,  and  the  Proposition, 
developed  when  necessary,  by  means  of  the  Division. 

SECTION  I. 

TEXT. 

The  custom  of  placing  a  text  of  Holy  Scripture  at 
the  head  of  our  discourse  comes  down  to  us  from  the 
earliest  ages  of  the  church.  In  opening  our  sermon 
with  a  passage  from  Holy  Writ,  we,  as  it  were,  pre- 
sent our  credentials  to  our  flock,  and  proclaim  our  right 
to  speak  as  the  amljassadors  of  Him  whose  word  it  is ; 
whilst,  at  the  same  time,  we  secure  for  oui"selves  and 


Introduction  of  the  Discouesb.  133 

our  discoui'se  an  amount  of  reverent  attention  which 
no  mere  words  of  our  own  could  possibly  gain.  It  is 
evident  that  the  text  is  not  to  be  chosen  at  hazard,  but 
with  care  and  discretion,  and  in  accordance  with  the 
followuig  practical  rules. 

1.  The  text  ought  to  contain  in  substtmce  the  sub- 
ject as  well  as  the  division  of  the  discourse,  either  in 
formal  terms  or  in  consequences  which  can  easily  be 
deduced.  It  ought  to  be,  in  other  words,  the  founda- 
tion on  which  the  whole  development  is  to  be  raised, 
the  germ  of  the  whole  discourse  ;  so  that,  after  hear- 
ing it  announced,  we  can  understand,  in  a  general  man- 
ner, what  is  to  be  the  subject  of  the  preacher's  sermon. 

2.  The  text  ought  to  have  a  natural,  not  a  forced, 
relation  to  the  subject  of  the  sermon.  As  far  as  possi- 
ble, this  relation  should  be  literal,  since,  if  the  text  be 
allegorical,  it  requires  a  long,  tedious,  and  often  strained 
explanation  which  not  merely  wearies  the  audience, 
but  trespasses  unpardonably  upon  the  body  of  the  dis- 
comse.  There  are,  of  coui-se,  circumstances  iu  which 
a  literal  application  of  the  text  is  less  necessary,  and 
some,  where  it  is  not  possible,  as,  for  example,  in 
Panegyrics,  Funeral  Orations,  and  cei-tain  Moral  Sub- 
jects. 

3.  The  text  should  be  aimounced,  simply  and  faith- 
fully, as  it  stands  in  Holy  Writ,  without  pamphi-ase 
or  application.  There  is  another  time  and  place  for 
this  when  it  is  necessary.  ..ij  <.;     ,<.•., ,,. 


134  Inteoduction  of  the  Discourse. 

SECTION  II. 

EXORDIUM  STRICTLY  SO  CALLED. 

After  the  simple  announcement  of  his  text  the 
preacher  passes  on  at  once  to  his  exordium,  strictly  so 
called.  The  exordium  is  merely  a  becoming  introduc- 
tion of  the  subject ;  and  it  has  for  its  object  to  dispose 
our  audience  to  receive  favourably  that  which  we  are 
about  to  say,  that  thus  we  may  gain  their  good-will, 
excite  their  interest,  and  secure  their  attention,  with 
of  course,  the  view  of  their  ultimate  conviction  and 
persuasion,  and  from  this  idea  of  it  we  can  easily  con- 
clude that  a  good  exordium  is  a  matter  of  gi*eat  impor- 
tance. 

We  all  know  how  mnch  depends  in  the  ordinaiy 
affairs  of  life  upon  first  impressions.  The  success  of 
his  seiTnon  often  depends  upon  the  iirst  impressions 
which  a  preacher  makes  upon  his  hearei-s  in  his  exor- 
di  um .  If  these  impressions  be  favourable,  his  and  i  ence 
will  listen  to  the  remaining  part  of  his  discourse  with 
pleasm-e  and  attention  ;  and,  consequently,  with  profit. 
If  he  tiu-n  them  against  him  in  the  very  commence- 
ment, he  will  find  it  most  dithcult,  if  not  impossible, 
to  recover  the  groimd  which  he  has  lost  through  the 
))ad  taste  displayed  in  his  exordium,  or  through  his 
inexperience  in  not  introducing  his  subject  in  a  more 
l^ecoming  manner. 

According  to  Cicero,  the  object  of  the  exordium  is 


IXTUODUCTION   OF  THE  DISCOURSE.  135 

to  render  our  hearei-s,  benn'olos,  attentos,  et  dociles ; 
and,  although  it  is  true,  that  in  many  instances  our 
licarei-s  may  be  aheudy  Avell-disposed,  and  prepared  to 
listen  not  only  with  attention  and  good  feeling  but  also 
with  docility  to  him  who  speaks  to  them  in  the  sacred 
name  of  religion  ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  matter  to  be 
introduced  to  their  notice  is  so  serious  in  itself,  and  of 
such  vast  impoi'tance  to  them,  w^iilst  the  sacrifice  of 
human  interests  and  of  ini worthy  passions  which  the 
Christian  preacher  necessarily  demands  from  his  flock 
is  so  painful  to  flesh  and  blood,  as  to  require,  as  an 
ordinary  rule,  to  be  brought  under  their  notice  with  a 
certain  amount  of  skilful  introduction.  The  preacher 
will  gain  his  end  by  the  discreet  and  judicious  appli- 
cation of  a  few  very  simple  and  obvious  rules. 

1.  In  the  fii"st  place  the  sermon  must  be  opened, 
and  the  subject  introduced,  with  modesty.  There  is 
nothing  w'hich  so  powerfully  prejudices  an  audience 
against  a  preacher  as  any  appearance  of  presumption 
or  self-conceit  in  him — any  air  of  bravado,  which  seems 
to  indicate  that  he  is  either  above,  or  reckless  of,  the 
opinion  w^hich  his  hearei-s  maj^  entertain  of  him — any 
air  of  aft'ected  elegance,  which  displays  itself  in  the 
aiTangement  of  his  surplice,  or  the  careful  placing  of 
his  handkerchief  on  the  front  of  the  pulpit,  as  if  in 
readiness  to  wipe  away  the  tears  which  are  presently 

to  floAV. 

Little  weaknesses  of  this  kind,   which  are  simply 


136  Iktkoduction  of  the  Discourse. 

manifestations  of  the  natural  man,  are  veiy  fatal  to  a 
preacher.  Our  audience  expect  us  to  be  above  such 
trifling.  They  come,  as  a  general  rule,  prepared  to 
look  upon  us  as  men  of  God,  and,  if  at  the  commence- 
ment of  our  discourse,  we  destroy  the  illusion  by  the 
absurd  display  of  some  little  petty  vanity,  we  inflict 
an  iiTeparable  injury  upon  ourselves  and  our  ministry. 
One  of  the  most  common  forms  which  this  "  natural- 
ness," so  to  call  it,  takes,  is  the  introduction  of  our- 
selves into  our  exordium.  It  is  seldom  that  a  man  so 
far  forgets  himself,  or  is  so  far  deluded,  as  to  speak  in 
open  praise  of  himself  and  his  qualifications  for  his 
task,  but  it  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  a  preacher 
expressing  regret  that  his  subject  had  not  fallen  into 
abler  hands — hands  better  fitted  to  do  it  justice.  Now, 
this  is  simply  a  refinement  of  self-love,  it  is  simply 
fishing  for  praise  with  a  hook  baited  Avith  false  humil- 
ity. It  is,  as  we  remember  to  have  seen  it  styled  by 
an  old  wi'iter,  humilUas  cmn  hmao.  Our  audience  see 
through  the  flimsy  veil  at  a  glance,  and  their  respect 
and  i"everence  for  us  ai"e  lowered  at  once.  They  know 
that  the  man  who  has  a  due  conception  of  the  great- 
ness of  his  ofiice,  the  man  who  like  St.  Paul  preaches 
only  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  crucified,  has  no  time,  and 
less  inclination,  to  pieach  himself,  to  endeavour  to 
exhalt  himself  by  an  affected  humility. 

The  only  safe  and  general  rule  that  we  can  venture 
to  give  the  young  preacher  on  this  point  is,  never  to 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  137 

speak  of  himself,  good  or  bad,  in  the  pulpit,  and,  least 
of  all,  to  do  so  in  his  exordium.  We  do  not  mean  to 
say,  of  coui-se,  that  this  rule  suftei-s  no  exceptions  ;  l)ut 
the  circumstances  in  which  he  can  introduce  any  men- 
tion of  himself  into  his  exordium  are  so  rare,  and 
require  to  be  managed  with  so  much  dexterity,  whilst 
they  suppose  so  much  real  modesty  and  luiuffected 
simplicity  in  a  preacher,  that  we  cannot  venture  to 
point  them  out.  On  the  other  hand,  talent  and  virtue 
are  set  off  to  the  greatest  advantage  by  modesty.  It 
imparts  a  character  of  simplicity  to  the  preacher  which 
opens  the  way  to  pei"suasion,  by  exciting  the  interest 
and  conciliating  the  good  will  of  his  audience.  It  is 
a  testimony  of  the  consideration  in  which  the  preacher 
holds  his  hearers ;  and  they,  naturally  being  pleased 
to  be  thus  esteemed,  listen  to  him  with  favour,  and  are 
predisposed  to  be  convinced  even  before  he  has  well 
begun  to  speak. 

2.  The  exordium  ought  to  be  brief,  that  is  to  say, 
it  ought  to  go  promptly  and  directly  to  its  end,  which 
is  a  general  introduction  of  the  whole  subject.  Ordi- 
narily it  admits  of  no  details,  arguments,  proofs,  or 
figures,  except  those  of  a  simple  nature.  In  familiar 
discourses  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  brief  and  plain 
explanation  of  the  text,  or  gospel  of  the  day,  with  the 
consequent  deduction  of  the  proposition.  This  brevity 
is,  of  course,  relative  :  since  the  introduction  must 
have  a  due  proportion  to  the  rest  of  the  discourse. 


138  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

Experienced  writers  say  that  the  exordium  should  not 
be  more  than  oue-eis^hth  of  the  whole  sermon. 

3.  The  exordium  ought  to  be  simple.  It  admits 
of  no  grand  figures  or  laboured  oratorical  displa}''. 
As  our  audience  are  supposed  to  be  calm  and  mimoved 
in  the  commencement  of  our  sermon,  it  is  only  becom- 
ing to  address  them  in  a  manner  which  is  in  conso- 
nance with  their  feelings.  As  the  sun  does  not  attain 
his  meridian  splendour  but  by  degrees,  so  the  jareacher 
must  proceed  gradually  until,  at  the  close  of  his  dis- 
course, he  reaches  the  most  elevated  heights  of  oratoiy. 

Gravitatis  plurimum^  splendoris  et  concinnitatis 
'minimum*  is  the  advice  of  Cicero  in  regard  to  the 
introduction  of  a  discourse. 

Any  display  of  art  or  showy  oratoiy  in  the  exor- 
dium is  attended  with  two  great  inconveniences.  It 
makes  our  hearers  suspect  that  we  seek  to  please  rather 
than  to  convert,  to  satisfy  our  own  vanity  rather  than 
save  their  souls,  and  by  musing  and  distracting  them 
too  much  it  incapacitates  them,  to  a  certain  extent,  for 
a  due  relish  of  the  solid  food  which  is  to  be  placed 
before  them  in  the  body  of  the  discom^.  Many  of 
Dr.  Ne^vman's  sermons  furnish  admirable  models  of 
this  simple  and  uiiaftected  manner  of  introducing  a 
subject. 

There  are,  of  coui'se,  exceptions  to  this  rule.  The 
first  is,  when  ihe  preacher  or  his  hearere  are  already 
*  De  Orat.  lib.  ii. 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  139 

inspired  with  elevated  sontiments  and  deep  emotions, 
■idiich  have  been  called  into  existence  by  some  great 
event  on  which  he  is  about  to  address  them.  Such, 
for  example,  would  be  the  funeral  oration  of  some 
illustrious  personage,  the  panegyric  of  some  great 
saint,  or  the  recurrence  of  any  of  the  principal  festi- 
vals of  the  year.  On  such  occasions  as  these  our  audi- 
ence are  already  filled  with  the  great  thoughts  which 
arise  instinctively  within  their  breasts,  and,  hence,  if 
the  preacher  were  to  commence  his  discourse  in  the 
plain  language  and  simple  manner  which  befit  the  ordi- 
nary sermon,  he  would  not  be  in  accordance  with  the 
sentiments  and  dispositions  of  his  hearers.  Always 
supposing  that  he  is  able  to  master  it  (and  if  he  be 
not  he  will  not  attempt  to  use  it)  these  occasions  admit, 
and  demand,  the  employment  of  the  Grand  Exordium; 
that,  which,  according  to  Cicero,  possesses  Ornamen- 
turn  et  Dignitatem. 

As  the  subject  which  it  introduces  is  great,  noble, 
and  impressive,  the  Grand  Exordiimi  is  distinguished 
by  elevated  thoughts,  majestic  language,  and  beautiful 
figures.  We  have  a  veiy  striking  illustration  of  this 
sort  of  exordium  in  Bossuet's  funeral  oration  for  the 
Queen  of  England  which  we  give  amongst  the  exam- 
ples at  the  end  of  this  section. 

It  is  only  after  a  deep  and  serious  consideration  of 
his  powers  that  the  preacher,  and  especially  the  young 
one,   will  venture  to  employ  the  Grand  Exordium. 


140  Inteoductiox  of  the  Discourse. 

He  will  remember  that  there  is  but  one  step  between 
the  subHme  and  the  ridiculous.  If  he  aim  at  the  sub- 
lime without  attaining  it,  he  will  hardly  escape  becom- 
ing ridiculous  by  his  failure.  He  will  remember,  too, 
that  in  adopting  the  Grand  Exordium  he  imposes  on 
himself,  not  merely  the  necessity  of  sustaining  the  same 
lofty  train  of  thought  and  majesty  of  language,  but  the 
obligation  of  increasing  in  dignity  and  power  as  he 
proceeds  in  his  discourse.  Ut  semper  crescat  augfea- 
turque  oralio.  Hence,  remembering  that  those  very 
circumstances  which  will  render  his  succe&s,  if  he 
attain  it,  more  glorious,  will  also  render  his  failure 
more  glaring,  the  prudent  preacher  will  be  verj'  slow 
in  attempting  the  Grand  Exordium. 

The  second  exception  is  when  circumstances  demand 
the  employment  of  the  Abrupt  Exordium.  There  are 
occasions  when  an  audience  are  moved  in  the  veiy 
depths  of  their  souls  by  indignation,  grief,  or  some 
other  violent  passion.  Were  a  preacher,  under  these 
circumstances,  to  commence  his  address  in  the  col- 
lected manner  and  the  plain  style  and  language  of  the 
Simple  Exordium,  his  hearers  would  turn  from  him 
with  disgufc^t  and  impatience.  If  he  venture  to  address 
them  on  such  an  occasiun,  or  if  duty  oblige  him  to  do 
so,  he  must  throw  himself  into  their  circumstances, 
inflame  himself  with  their  excited  feelings,  and  like 
the  war-horse  rushing  to  the  fray,  plunge  at  once  into 
the  midst  of  his  subject.     He  uses  only  the  language 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  141 

of  strong  passion,  that  language  which  is  the  expres- 
sion of  vehement  feeling,  of  a  soul  that  is  beyond  the 
control  of  evei'}'thing  save  those  deep  emotions  which 
move  him  in  such  wondrous  manner,  which  display 
themselves  in  the  tiro  of  his  eye,  in  the  strong  bold 
energy  of  his  l^oaring,  in  the  very  roughness  of  his 
unchosen  words- 
It  is  impossible  to  lay  down  any  rules  for  this  kind 
of  exordium,  since  it  is  evident  that  the  man  who 
employs  it  bona  fide,  and  not  as  a  mere  piece  of  act- 
ing, is  beyond  the  control  of  any  set  iniles,  or  of  any 
influence  save  that  of  the  feelings  by  which  he  is  swayed. 
Tliere  are  few  occasions  on  which  the  Christian  orator 
is  called  to  employ  such  an  introduction  to  his  dis- 
course ;  fewer  still  on  which  he  should  ventm'e  to  do 
so.  Perhaps  the  most  striking,  as  well  as  best  known, 
examples  of  the  Abrupt  Exordium  are  furnished  by 
the  opening  of  Cicero's  first  and  fourth  orations  against 
Cataline. 

The  only  other  exception  which  we  need  notice  is 
the  Exordium  by  Insinufttion.  It  sometimes  happens 
that  a  preacher  has  to  encounter  dispositions  in  his 
audience  which  are  anything  but  favourable  to  him  ; 
or  to  attack  an  inveterate  prejudice,  to  dispel  a  com- 
mon error,  or  enter  the  lists  with  a  skilful  and  power- 
ful adverstuy.  In  these  and  similar  cases,  since  his 
subject  is  almost  certain  to  be  unpopular,  the  orator 
cannot  venture  to  introduce  it  at  once  and  without 


143  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

further  preface  to  his  audience.  He  applies  himself 
in  the  first  place  to  conciliate  their  good  will  and 
remove  their  prejudices,  to  soothe  their  feelings  and 
calm  their  anger,  to  gain  possession  of  their  minds  and 
enlist  their  sympathies,  and  thus  indirectly  to  prepare 
the  way  for  the  introduction  of  the  obnoxious  subject. 
It  is  seldom  that  a  Christian  preacher  has  any  neces- 
sity to  use  this  exordium.  It  is  fitly  employed  in  a 
controversial  sermon,  whenever  it  is  expedient  to  preach 
one  ;  and  in  some  other  circumstances  which  so  rarely 
occur  that,  when  the}"  do,  the  preacher's  common  sense 
will  be  a  better  guide  to  him  than  any  formal  rules 
which  we  could  point  out. 

With  these  exceptions  the  introduction  of  a  discourse 
is  essentially  simple  both  in  composition,  style,  and 
delivery. 

4.  The  exordium  must  have  an  essential  relation  to 
the  subject  of  the  discourse.  In  other  words,  it  must 
necessarily  lead  us  to  it,  and  must  bear  the  same  rela- 
tion to  the  body  of  the  discourse  as  the  human  head 
has  to  the  bod}'^  on  which  it  i^  placed.  Those  general 
introductions  which  will  suit  one  discourse  just  as  well 
as  another  are  essentially  faulty.  Without  anticipa- 
ting any  material  part  of  the  sermon,  the  exordium 
should  shadow  forth  the  main  features  of  the  whole^ 
so  that,  after  listening  to  it,  the  hearer  should  have  a 
general  idea  of  the  speaker's  object,  and  the  means  by 
which  he  proposes  to  attain  his  end. 


iNTRODUCTIOISr   OF   THE  DISCOURSE.  143 

Hence  it  follows  that  the  introductiou  is  to  be  taken 
from  the  very  viscera  of  the  subject  itself,  and  on  this 
account  Cicero  counsels  us  not  to  write  our  introduc- 
tion until  after  we  have  written,  or,  at  least,  thoroughly 
digested  the  sermon  by  means  of  our  plan.  The  rea- 
son of  this  is  obvious,  for  if  we  write  our  exordium  at 
the  very  commencement,  and  before  we  have  thoroughly 
digested  our  materials  and  arranged  our  plan,  how  can 
it  possibly  shadow  forth  the  main  features  of  our  dis- 
coui-se.  In  such  cases  we  write,  not  introductions  to 
suit  our  sermons,  but  sermons  to  suit  our  introduc- 
tions. 

By  following  Cicero's  method  we  can  easily  deduce 
our  introduction  in  a  tellino;  manner.  It  will  bear 
the  same  relation  to  our  discourse  as  the  flower  does 
to  its  stem ;  there  will  be  an  essential  connection 
between  it  and  the  discoui-se  which  it  substantially 
shadows  forth,  and  to  which  it  essentially  leads. 
Cicero  adds  on  this  point,  "  When  I  have  plamiedanti 
digested  all  the  materials  of  my  discourse,  it  is  my 
custom  to  think,  in  the  last  place,  of  the  introduction 
with  which  I  am  to  begin.  For,  if  at  any  time  I  have 
endeavoured  to  invent  an  introduction  first,  nothing 
has  ever  occurred  to  me  for  that  purpose,  but  what 
was  trifling,  nugatory,  and  vulgar."  These  remarks 
do  not  necessarily  suppose  that  the  whole  of  our  ser- 
mon has  been  written  before  we  compose  the  exor- 
dium, but  they  suppose  that  it  has,  at  least,  been 


144  Intkoductiox  of  the  Discourse. 

thoroughly  digested  and  ai-ranged  in  such  a  munner 
as  to  enable  the  speaker  to  shadow  foi-th  its  leading 
details  in  his  exordium. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  correctness  is  an 
essential  quality  of  a  good  introduction.  We  have 
already  spoken  of  the  force  of  first  impressions.  At 
the  commencement  of  a  sermon  his  hearers,  beinsf  as 
yet  unoccupied  with  his  subject  or  his  arguments, 
diiect  all  their  attention  to  the  style  and  manner  of 
the  speaker  ;  and,  consequently,  he  must  endeavour  to 
make  a  favourable  impression  upon  them.  After  any 
want  of  modesty,  nothing  turns  an  audience  against 
a  speaker  so  easily  as  slovenliness  of  style  or  composi- 
tion, and  carelessness  of  manner.  When  they  have 
once  become  thoroughly  warmed  by  the  sulrject,  they 
may  overlook  many  defects  in  the  course  of  a  sermon 
which,  if  they  occurred  at  the  commencement,  would 
inevital)ly  prejudice  them  against  the  speaker,  and 
destroy  all  his  chances  of  success.  The  introduction 
is,  above  all  others,  that  part  of  a  discoui-se  in  which 
our  hearers,  being  as  yet  unmoved  and  cold,  are  dis- 
posed to  act  the  critic. 

To  sum  up  in  a  few  words.  With  the  exception  of 
the  exordium  ex  ahrupto  which  is  subject  to  no  fixed 
rules,  we  shall  introduce  our  discourse  in  some  such 
manner  as  this.  Having  quoted  our  text,  we  proceed 
to  give  some  explanation  of  it.  In  ordinary  discourses, 
such  as  those  which  are  preached  on  common  Sundays. 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  145 

a  development  of  the  text,  or  n  brief  explanation  of 
the  Gospel  of  the  day,  is  the  most  usual,  and  at  the 
same  time,  the  most  interesting  and  becoming  intro- 
duction. We  then  show  its  application  to  the  sul)- 
ject  of  our  discourse,  or,  rather,  we  deduce  the  sulyect 
from  this  explanation.  Descending  from  general  ideas 
or  principles,  to  more  particular  ones,  we  throw  out, 
or  indicate,  the  germs  of  our  plan.  Developing  these 
as  occasion  may  require,  but  always  without  anticipa- 
ting any  material  part  of  our  discourse,  we  thus  pre- 
pare the  way  for  the  announcement  of  the  proposition 
with  its  division,  and  this  in  such  order,  that  our  pro- 
position naturally  flows  and  is  essentially  deduced  from 
our  introduction,  whilst,  at  the  same  time,  it  embodies 
ill  its  fruitful  simplicity  the  subject  matter  of  the  whole 
discourse  in  the  manner  we  have  described  when  treat- 
ing of  "  unity." 

EXAMPLES. 

Simple  Exordiums — Dr.  JVeivman. 

"  There  are  two  especial  manifestations  under  which 
divine  grace  is  vouchsafed  to  us,  whether  in  Scripture 
or  in  the  history  of  the  Church  ;  whether  in  Saints, 
or  in  pei-sons  of  holy  and  religious  life  ;  the  two  are 
even  found  among  our  Lord's  Apostles,  being  repre- 
sented l^y  the  two  foremost  of  that  favoured  company, 

St.  Peter  and  St.  John.     St.  John  is  the  Saint  of 
10 


146  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

purity,  and  St.  Peter  is  the  Saint  of  love.  Not  that 
love  and  purit}^  can  ever  be  separated  ;  not  as  if  a 
Saint  had  not  all  viilnes  in  him  at  once  ;  not  as  if 
St.  Peter  were  not  pure  as  well  as  loving,  and  St. 
John  loving,  for  all  he  was  so  pure.  The  graces  of 
the  Spirit  cannot  be  separated  from  each  other  ;  one 
implies  the  rest ;  what  is  love  but  a  delight  in  God,  a 
devotion  to  Him,  a  surrender  of  the  whole  self  to  him? 
AVhat  is  impurity,  on  the  other  hand,  but  the  taking 
something  of  this  world,  something  sinful,  for  the 
oliject  of  our  affections,  instead  of  God?  What  is  it 
but  a  deliberate  turning  away  from  the  Creator  to  the 
creature,  and  seeking  pleasure  in  the  shadow  of  death, 
not  in  the  all-blissful  Presence  of  light  and  holiness  ? 
The  impure  then  do  not  love  God  ;  and  those  who  are 
without  love  of  God  cannot  really  be  pure  ;  in  some 
object  we  must  fix  our  affections,  we  must  find  plea- 
sure ;  and  we  cannot  find  pleasure  ui  two  objects,  as 
we  cannot  serve  two  masters,  which  are  contrar}^  to 
each  other.  Much  less  can  a  Saint  be  deficient  either 
in  purity  or  in  love,  for  the  flame  of  love  will  not  be 
bright  unless  the  substance  which  feeds  it  be  pure  and 
unadulterate. 

"  Yet,  certain  as  this  is,  it  is  certain  also  that  the 
spiritual  works  of  God  show  differently  from  each  other 
to  our  eyes,  and  that  they  display,  in  their  character  and 
their  history,  some  this  virtue  more  than  others,  and 
some  that.     In  other  words,  it  pleases  the  Giver  of 


Introduction  of  the  Discoukse.  147 

grace  to  endue  them  specially  with  certam  gifts,  for 
His  glory,  which  light  up  and  beautify  one  particular 
portion  or  department  of  their  soul,  so  as  to  cast  their 
other  excellencies  into  the  shade.  And  then  this  grace 
becomes  their  characteristic,  and  we  put  it  first  in  om- 
tlioughts  of  them,  and  consider  what  they  have  besides 
as  included  in  it,  or  dependent  upon  it,  and  speak  of 
them  as  if  they  had  not  the  rest,  though  they  really 
have  them  ;  and  w^e  give  them  some  title  or  descrij)- 
tion  taken  from  that  particular  gi-ace  which  is  so 
emphatically  theirs.  And  in  this  way  we  may  speak, 
as  I  intend  to  do  in  ^vhat  I  am  going  to  say,  of  two 
chief  classes  of  Saints,  whose  emblems  are  the  lily  and 
the  rose,  who  are  bright  with  angelic  purity,  or  who 
burn  with  divine  love." — Purity  and  love. 


"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  question,  my  dear  brethren, 
so  trite,  and  therefore  so  uninteresting  at  first  sight, 
that  you  may  wonder  why  I  put  it,  and  may  object 
that  it  will  be  difiicult  to  fix  the  mind  on  it,  and  may 
anticipate  that  nothing  profital3le  can  be  made  of  it. 
It  is  this  :-^'  Why  were  you  sent  into  the  world  ?' 
Yet,  after  all,  it  is  perhaps  a  thought  more  obvious 
than  it  is  common,  more  easy  than  it  is  familiar  ;  I 
mean,  it  ought  to  come  into  your  minds,  but  it  does 
not,  you  never  had  more  than  a  distant  acquaintance 
with  it,  though  that  sort  of  acquaintance  you  have  had 


148  Inteoductiok  of  the  Discouese. 

^vith  it  for  many  years.  Nay,  once  or  twice  perhaps 
you  have  been  thrown  across  it  somewhat  intimately, 
for  a  short  season,  but  this  was  an  accident  which  did 
not  last.  There  are  those  who  recollect  the  first  time, 
as  it  would  seem,  when  it  came  home  to  them.  They 
Avere  but  little  children,  and  they  were  by  themselves, 
and  they  spontaneously  asked  themselves,  or  rather 
God  spake  in  them,  '  Why  am  I  here  ?  how  came  I 
here  ?  who  brought  me  here  ?  what  am  I  to  do  here?' 
Perhaps  it  was  the  first  act  of  reason,  the  beginning 
of  their  real  responsibility,  the  commencement  of  their 
trial ;  perhaps  from  that  day  they  may  date  their 
capacity,  their  awfnl  power,  of  choosing  between  good 
and  evil,  and  of  committing  mortal  sin.  And  so,  as 
life  goes  on,  the  thought  comes  vividly,  from  time  to 
time,  for  a  short  season  across  the  conscience  ;  whether 
in  illness  or  in  some  anxiety,  or  some  season  of  solitude, 
or  on  hearing  some  preacher,  or  reading  some  religious 
work.  A  vivid  feeling  comes  over  them  of  the  vanity 
and  unprofitableness  of  the  world,  and  then  the  ques- 
tion recurs,  '  Why  then  am  I  sent  into  it  ?'  " —  God's 
will  the  end  of  life. 

Exordium  by  Insinuation — Demosthenes. 

"Let  me  begin,  men  of  Athens,  by  imploring  all 
the  Heavenly  Powers  that  the  same  kindly  sentiments 
which  I  have  throughout  my  public  life  cherished 
towards  this  country  and  each  of  you,  may  now  by 


lNTROI>UOTIOJf   OF   THE  DISCOURSE.  149 

30U  be  ^liown  towards  me  iu  the  present  contest  1 
Next  I  beseech  them  to  grant,  what  so  nearly  concerns 
yolu-selves,  your  religion,  and  your  reputation,  that 
you  may  not  take  counsel  of  my  adversary  touching 
the  coui-se  to  be  pursued  in  hearing  my  defence — that 
■would  indeed  be  hard  ! — but  that  you  may  regard  the 
laws  and  your  oaths,  w^hich,  among  so  many  other 
just  rules,  lay  down  this — that  both  sides  shall  be 
equally  heard  !  Nor  does  this  merely  import  that  no 
one  shall  be  prejudged,  or  that  equal  favour  shall  be 
extended  in  both  parties;  it  also  implies  that  each  an- 
tagonist shall  have  free  scope  in  pursuing  whatever 
method  and  line  of  defence  he  may  be  pleased  to  pre- 
fer. Upon  the  present  occasion,  Athenians,  as  in 
many  things,  so  especially  in  two  of  great  moment, 
^Eschines  has  the  advantage  of  me.  One  is  that  we 
have  not  the  same  interests  at  stake;  it  is  by  no  means 
the  same  thing  for  me  to  forfeit  your  esteem,  and  for 
him  to  fail  in  his  Impeachment.  That  to  me  indeed — 
but  I  w^ould  fain  not  take  so  gloomy  a  view*  in  the 
outset, — ^yet  he  certainly  brings  his  charge  an  unpro- 
voked volunteer.  My  other  disadvantage  is  that  all 
men  are  naturally  prone  to  take  pleasure  iu  listening 
to  invective  and  accusation,  and  to  be  disgusted  with 
those  who  praise  themselves.  To  him,  therefore,  falls 
the  part  which  ministers  to  your  gratification,  while 
to  me  there  is  only  left  that  which,  I  may  almost  say, 
is  distasteful  to  all.     And  yet,  if  from  such  apprehen- 


150  Intkoduction  of  the  Discourse. 

sions  I  were  to  avoid  the  subject  of  my  own  conduct, 
I  should  appear  to  be  without  defence  against  this 
charge,  and  without  proof  that  my  honoui-s  were  well 
earned;  although  I  cannot  go  over  the  ground  of  my 
counsels  and  my  measures,  without  necessaril}^  speak- 
ing oftentimes  of  ni3"self.  This,  therefore,  I  shall  en- 
deavour to  do  with  all  moderation;  while  the  blame 
of  my  dwelling  on  topics  indispensable  to  my  defence 
must  justly  rest  on  him  who  has  instituted  an  Im- 
peachment of  such  a  kind. 

"  But  at  least  I  think  I  may  reckon  upon  all  of 
you,  my  judges,  admitting  that  this  question  concerns 
me  as  much  as  Ctesiphon,  and  justifies  on  my  part  an 
equal  anxiety;  for  to  be  stripped  of  any  possession, 
and  more  esj)ecially  by  an  enemy,  is  grievous  and 
haid  to  bear;  but,  worst  of  all,  thus  to  lose  your  con- 
fidence and  esteem,  of  all  possessions  the  most  pre- 
cious. Such,  then,  being  my  stake  in  this  cause,  I 
conjure  and  implore  of  you  all  alike,  to  give  ear  to 
my  defence  against  these  charges  with  that  impar- 
tiality ^vhich  the  laws  enjoin — those  laws  first  given 
by  Solon,  one  so  friendly  towards  you  as  he  was  to  all 
popular  rights — laws  which  he  fixed,  not  only  l)y  en- 
graving them  on  brazen  tallies,  but  l)y  the  sanction  of 
the  oaths  you  take  when  sitting  in  judgment;  not,  I 
verily  believe,  from  any  distrust  of  you,  but  because 
he  perceived  that  the  accuser  being  armed  with  the 
advantage  of  speaking  first,  the  accused  can  have  no 


Introduction  of  tiik  Discourse.  151 

chance  of  resistinir  li'-s  charges  and  invectives,  unless 
every  one  of  you,  his  judges,  keeping  the  oath  sworn 
before  God,  shall  receive  with  favour  the  defence 
which  comes  la^jt,  and  lending  an  equal  and  a  like  ear 
to  both  parties,  shall  thus  make  up  your  mind  upon 
the  whole  of  the  case. 

"  But  on  this  day  when  I  am  about  to  render  up 
an  account,  as  it  should  seem,  of  my  whole  life,  both 
public  and  private,  I  would  again,  as  in  the  outset, 
implore  the  gods,  and  in  your  presence  pour  out  to 
them  my  supplication,  first  to  grant  me  at  your  hands 
the  same  kindness  in  this  conflict  which  I  have  ever 
borne  towards  our  country  and  all  of  3  ou;  and  next, 
that  they  may  incline  you  all  to  pronounce  upon  this 
Impeachment  the  decision  which  shall  best  consult 
the  gloiy  of  the  state  and  the  religious  obligations  of 
each  individual  judge." — The  Crown. 

Grand  Exordivm — Bossuel. 
"  He  who  reigns  in  the  heavens,  and  from  whom  all 
empires  spring,  to  whom  belongeth  gloiy,  majesty, 
and  independence;  He  alone  glories  in  giving  laws  to 
kings,  and  in  giving  them,  too,  when  it  plciiseth  Him, 
great  and  terrible  admonition.  Whether  He  exalts 
the  throne,  or  Avhether  He  humbles  it,  whether  he 
imparts  His  power  to  princes  or  withdraws  it  to  Him- 
self, leaving  them  only  their  own  weakness,  He  ever 
leaches  them  their  duty  with  a  supremacy  worthy  of 


152  Intkoduction  of  the  Discourse. 

the  Godhead;  for,  in  givhig  them  His  poAver,  He 
commands  them  to  use  it  as  He  does  Himself,  for  the 
good  of  the  world,  and  He  teaches  them  by  with- 
drawing it,  that  all  their  majesty  is  borrowed,  and, 
though  seated  on  the  throne,  that  they  are  still  under 
His  hand  and  subject  to  His  sovereign  dominion.  It 
is  thus  that  He  instructs  princes,  not  only  by  the  ora- 
cles of  his  word,  but  also  by  facts  and  examples.  Et 
nunc  Reges  intelligite,  erudimini  qui  judicatis  terram. 
"  Christians,  whom  the  memoiy  of  a  great  queen, 
daughter,  wife,  and  mother  of  mighty  kings,  and 
sovereign  of  three  kingdoms,  calls  together  to  this 
sad  ceremony,  this  discouise  will  place  before  you  one 
of  those  awful  examples  which  exhibit  to  the  eyes  of 
the  world  the  fulness  of  its  vanity.  You  will  see  in 
the  life  of  one  individual  the  extremes  of  human  for- 
tune— measureless  felicity  and  measureless  woe — a 
long  and  peaceful  possession  of  one  of  the  brightest 
crowns  of  the  world — the  head  that  wore  it  encircled 
with  all  the  glory  that  power  and  greatness  can  con- 
fer, and  then  exposed  to  all  the  outrages  of  fortune. 
The  good  cause  at  tirst  attended  with  success;  and  then 
sudden  reverse,  unheard  of  change, — rebellion,  for  a 
time  restrained,  finally  triumphant;  no  check  to  licen- 
tiousness; the  laws  trampled  under  foot;  the  majesty 
of  the  throne  sjicrilegiously  profaned;  usurpation  and 
tyranny  assuming  the  name  of  liberty;  a  fugitive 
queen  finding  no  refuge  in  three  kingdoms,  and  for 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  153 

■whom  her  native  land  is  but  a  phice  of  exile;  nine 
times  the  wandering  ocean  traversed  by  a  princess 
despite  the  fury  of  the  tempest,  and  with  such  a 
change  of  state  and  circumstances;  a  throne  ignomiii- 
iously  overturned  and  miraculously  restored.  These 
are  the  lessons  which  God  gives  to  kings,  and  thus 
does  He  to  show  to  the  world  the  nothingness  of  its 
pomps  and  of  its  gi*eatness.  If  Avords  will  fail,  if  hu- 
man language  will  not  furnish  expression  for  a  subject 
so  vast  and  so  sublime,  facts  must  speak — the  heart  of 
a  great  queen,  once  elated  by  a  long  continuance  of 
prosperity,  then  suddenly  plunged  into  the  deepest 
abyss  of  soitow,  will  raise  loud  its  voice — and  if  it  is 
not  permitted  to  subjects  to  give  lessons  to  the  rulers 
of  nations,  a  King  lends  me  his  words  to  sa}- — '  Hear, 
you  great  of  the  earth;  be  instructed,  arbiters  of  the 
Avorld.' " — Funeral  Oration  on  the  Queen  of  Eng- 
land. 

CRITICAL    EXAMINATION    OF    TWO    CELEBRATED    EXOR- 
DIUMS. 

In  order  to  render  this  matter  more  clear,  and  to 
bring  the  practical  bearing  of  the  rules  laid  down 
more  sensibly  home  to  the  student,  it  may  be  useful  to 
present  him  with  a  critical  examination  of  some  ex- 
ordiums which  are  considered  master-pieces  of  their 
kind.     We  will  select  two  examples  for  this  purpose. 

Our  firs't  example,  which  is  sufficiently  remarkable 


154  IXTRODUCTIOJif   OF  THE  DiSCOUESE. 

ill  itself,  and  sufficiently  well-known,  is  an  exordium 
by  Biyda}'ne,  a  celebrated  French  preacher  of  the 
last  century.  After  acquiring  considerable  reputation 
in  the  provinces  he  came  to  Paris  in  1751.  He  made 
his  first  appearance  in  the  Church  of  St.  Sulpice, 
whither  his  reputation  had  attracted  an  immense  au- 
dience, including  ecclesiastics  of  the  highest  dignitj", 
and  persons  of  the  fii-st  rank  both  in  Church  and 
State.  jMaury,  who  wjis  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of 
the  new  preacher,  declares  that  he  opened  his  first  dis- 
course, delivered  in  presence  of  the  august  assembly 
who  croAvded  round  his  pulpit  in  the  following  words. 
We  need  not  remark  how  much  the  lanijuao-e  neces- 
saiih^  loses  by  translation  : — 

Uxordium  hy  Brydayne. 
''  At  the  sight  of  an  auditoiy  so  new  to  me,  me- 
thiiiks,  my  brethren,  I  ought  only  to  open  my  mouth 
to  solicit  your  favour  in  behalf  of  a  poor  missionary, 
destitute  of  all  those  talents  which  you  require  of 
those  who  speak  to  you  about  your  salvation.  Never- 
theless, I  experience,  to-day,  a  feeling  veiy  difi'erent. 
And,  if  I  be  cast  down,  suspect  me  not  of  being  de- 
pressed by  the  wretched  mieasiness  occasioned  by  van- 
ity, as  if  I  were  accustomed  to  preach  myself.  God 
forbid  that  a  minister  of  Heaven  should  ever  suppose 
he  needed  an  excuse  with  }'ou  !  for,  whoever  ye  may 
Ije,  ye  are  all  of  you  sinnei-s  like  myself.     It  is  before 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  155 

your  God  and  mine,  that  I  feel  myself  impelled  at 
this  moment  to  strike  my  breast. 

"  Until  now,  I  have  proclaimed  the  righteousness  of 
the  Most  High  in  churches  covered  with  thatch.  I 
have  preached  the  rigoius  of  penance  to  the  unfortu- 
nate who  wanted  bread.  I  have  declared  to  the  good 
inhabitants  of  the  country  the  most  awful  truths  of 
my  religion.  Unhappy  man  !  what  have  I  done  ?  I 
have  made  sad  the  poor,  the  best  friends  of  my  God  ! 
I  have  conveyed  terror  and  grief  into  those  simple 
and  honest  souls,  whom  I  ought  to  have  pitied  and 
consoled  !  It  is  here  only  where  I  behold  the  great, 
the  rich,  the  oppressors  of  suflering  humanity,  or  sin- 
nei-s  daring  and  hardened.  Ah  !  it  is  here  only  where 
the  sacred  word  should  be  made  to  resound  with  all 
the  force  of  its  thmider;  and  where  I  should  place 
with  me  in  this  pulpit,  on  the  one  side,  Death  which 
threatens  you,  and  on  the  other,  my  great  God,  who 
is  about  to  judge  you.  I  hold  to-day  your  sentence 
in  my  hand.  Tremble  then  in  my  presence,  ye  proud 
and  disdainful  men  who  hear  me  !  The  neceasity  of 
salvation,  the  certainty  of  death,  the  uncertaint}^  of 
that  hour,  so  terrifying  to  you,  final  impenitence,  the 
last  judgment,  the  number  of  the  elect,  hell,  and, 
above  all,  Eternity  !  Eternity  !  These  are  the  subjects 
upon  which  I  am  come  to  discourse,  and  which  I 
ought,  doubtless,  to  have  resei'ved  for  you  alone.  Ah  ! 
what  need  have  I  of  your  condenmation,  which,  per- 


156  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

hajDS,  might  damn  me,  without  saving  you  ?  God  is 
about  to  rouse  you,  while  his  unworthy  minister 
speaks  to  you  ! — for  I  have  had  a  long  experience  of 
his  mercies.  Penetrated  Avith  a  detestation  of  your 
past  iniquities,  and  shedding  tears  of  sorrow  and  re- 
pentance, you  will,  then,  throw  yourselves  into  my 
arms;  and  by  this  remorse,  3'ou  will  prove  that  I  am 
sufficiently  eloquent." 

Without  disputing  for  an  instant  the  force  and 
vigour  of  the  language  in  which  it  is  expressed,  and 
without  undertaking  to  sa}'  how  far  it  may  claim  to 
be  considered  an  Abrupt  Exordium,  and,  as  such, 
above  all  technical  restraints,  it  appears  to  us  that,  on 
the  one  hand,  this  Introduction  of  Brydayne's  is  op- 
posed to  all  the  rules  laid  down,  and  to  all  the  condi- 
tions required  by  rhetoricians,  in  the  composition  of 
an  ordinary  exordium;  whilst  on  the  other,  it  is  not 
easy  to  see  what  there  was  in  the  circumstances  to 
place  the  preacher  beyond  the  control  of  these  rules 
and  conditions. 

In  the  first  place,  this  exordium  seems  to  offend 
against  modesty.  The  preacher  speaks  a  great  deal 
too  frequently  of  himself.  /  am  not  cast  down  by 
miserable  vanity — 1  am  not  accustomed  to  preach  my- 
self— /  hold  your  sentence  in  my  hand — Tremble, 
then,  before  me — and  a  great  deal  more  to  the  same 
effect. 

Secondly,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  the  language 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  157 

employed  by  the  })reacher  can  be  considered  strictly 
true.  Until  now,  he  says,  /  have  proclaimed  the 
'righteousness  of  the  Most  High  in  churcJies  covered 
icith  thatch  ;  whilst  the  fact  was  that  he  had  preached 
in  most  of  the  laro-e  cities  of  the  kinirdom.  /  have 
declared  to  the  good  inhabitants  of  the  country  the 
most  awful  truths  of  my  religion.  Unhapjjy  man  ! 
what  have  I  done  ?  I  have  made  sad  the  poor,  the 
best  friends  of  God !  In  other  words,  up  to  this 
time  he  had  only  preached  to  saints !  But  was  this 
true;  and,  if  it  were,  how  was  it  to  be  reconciled  with 
his  own  words  that  he  had  had  a  long  experience  of 
the  mercies  of  God  ?  Surely,  these  mercies  were  not 
contined  to  the  great !  Here  my  eyes  fall  only  itjjon 
the  great,  the  rich,  the  oppressors  of  suffering  human- 
ity, upon  sinners  daring  and  hardened  I  How  could 
a  preacher  address  such  terms  to  any  Christian  audi- 
ence, much  less  to  one  whom  he  then  addressed  for 
the  fii-st  time,  and,  of  whom,  consequently,  he  could 
know  but  little  ?  The  terrible  epithets,  oppressors  of 
suffering  humanity,  sinners  daring  and  hardened,  etc., 
were  hurled  upon  the  most  distinguished  citizens  of 
Paris,  as  if  they  alone  meiited  them.  They  might, 
perhaps,  l)e  deserving  enough  of  them,  but  it  may  well 
be  doubted  whether  they  were  much  moi"e  depraved, 
or  much  more  hardened,  than  the  citizens  of  Lyons, 
of  Marseilles,  and  of  those  other  large  towns  in  which 
the  preacher  had  already  given  missions  :  and,  if  they 


158  Inteoduction  of  the  Discouese. 

were  not,  these  assertions  of  Brydayne's  seem  to  be 
neither  true  in  fact,  nor  couiined  within  those  tem- 
perate limits  to  which  even  the  most  ardent  zeal  must 
he  subject. 

Thirdly,  if  one  of  the  principal  ends  of  the  exordium 
be  to  render  our  hearers,  benevolos,  attentos,  et  dociles, 
it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  this  end  would  be  gained  by 
such  an  introduction  as  that  which  we  have  given. 
An  unknown,  and  up  to  that  period,  comparatively 
undistinguished  preacher,  would  scarcely  render  au 
audience  whom  he  then  addressed  for  the  first  time 
well-disposed  towards  him,  or  docile  to  his  teaching, 
by  addressing  them  as  oppressors  of  suffering  humanity, 
or  hardened  or  obdurate  sinners,  more  especially  if 
that  audience  were  composed  of  ecclesiastics  of  high 
dignity,  and  of  laymen  moving  in  the  first  ranks  of 
life.  It  is  not  likely  that  such  an  audience,  assembled 
on  such  an  occasion,  w^ere  so  utterly  depraved  as  they 
were  represented  to  be ;  or,  that,  without  exception, 
they  deserved  to  be  included  in  those  terrible  anathe- 
mas which  were  hurled  upon  them.  But,  even  sup- 
posing them,  ecclesiastic  and  layman,  to  be  thus  com- 
pletely lost  to  all  sense  of  religion  and  dut}^,  would 
you  take  the  most  effectual  means  of  winning  them 
back  by  addressing  them  in  such  terms  as  those  which 
Brydayne  is  represented  to  have  used  ?  Would  St. 
Francis  of  Sales,  or  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  have  addressed 
them  in  these  terms  ?     We  venture  to  think  not :  and, 


Introduction"  of  the  Discourse.  159 

tbei-efore,  Avliil.st  we  freely  admit  the  beauty  and  the 
vigorous  strength  of  the  hnio-nao^e  in  which  it  is 
couched,  we  are  far  from  presenting  this  exordium  to 
the  student  as  a  model  which  he  may  wisely  imitate. 
In  fact,  so  improbable  and  contraiy  to  good  taste  does 
this  exordium  seem  to  some,  that  M.  Hamon,  whose 
judgment  we  willingly  follow  in  all  matters  relating 
to  Sacred  Eloquence,  inclines  to  the  ojainion  that  P. 
Brydayne  never  delivered  it  at  all,  and  that  it  is 
merely  the  fruit  of  the  imagination  of  Maury.  Judg- 
ing this  composition  on  its  own  intrinsic  merits  and 
fitness,  such  an  opinion  would  appear  most  reasonable. 
On  the  other  hand,  however,  Maury  declares  that  he 
heard  it  delivered,  and  it  is  generally  received  as  the 
production  of  him  to  whom  it  is  attributed  ;  neither 
are  those  wanting  who,  looking  at  it  probabl}^  more 
as  a  piece  of  composition  than  as  an  exordium,  bestow 
the  highest  commendations  on  it. 

Our  second  example  is  the  exordium  of  the  Funeral 
Oration  which  Bossuet  pronounced  on  Henrietta  Anne 
of  England,  Duchess  of  Oi'leans.  We  make  no  apology 
for  presenting  this  magnificent  specimen  of  Sacred  elo- 
quence to  the  clerical  reader  in  its  entiret}'.  Nothing 
could  be  more  chaste  and  beautiful  than  the  language 
in  which  it  is  expressed,  nothing  more  skilful  than  the 
manner  in  which,  without  anticipating  any  material 
part  of  the  discourse,  this  exordium  shadows  forth  its 
main  features,  and  embodies  them  in  the  Proposition; 


160  Intkoductiox  of  the  Discouese. 

tJtat  all  is  vain  in  man  if  we  consider  what  he  gives 
to  the  world  ;  that  all  is  important  if  we  consider  ivhai 
he  Gives  to  God ;  the  nothingness  and  the  greatness 
of  man. 

Exordium  by  Bossuet. 

"  I  was  then,  still  destined  to  render  this  funeral 
duty  to  the  most  high  and  most  puissant  princess, 
Henrietta  Anne  of  England,  Duchess  of  Orleans.  She, 
whom  I  had  seen  so  attentive,  while  I  rendered  the 
same  duty  to  the  Queen,  her  mother,  was  to  be,  so 
soon  after,  the  subject  of  a  similar  disconrse,  and  my 
sad  voice  was  resei"ved  for  this  deplorable  ministiy. 
O  vanity !  O  nothingness !  O  mortals !  ignoi-ant  of 
their  destinies  !  Wonld  she  have  bel  ieved  it  six  montlis 
since  ?  And  yon,  sirs,  would  you  have  thought,  while 
she  shed  so  many  tears  in  this  place,  that  she  was  so 
soon  to  re-assemble  you  there,  to  weep  over  herself? 
Princess,  woilhy  ol)ject  of  the  admiration  of  two  great 
king'doms,  was  it  not  enouo-li  that  Enalund  mourned 
your  absence,  without  being  yet  reduced  to  mourn 
your  death  ?  And  France,  M^ho  saw  you  again  with 
so  much  jo}-,  environed  with  a  new  renown,  had  she 
now  no  other  pomjDS,  no  other  triumphs  for  you,  on 
your  return  from  that  famous  voyage,  whence  you  had 
lirought  back  so  much  glory,  and  hopes  so  fair  ? 
'  Vanity  of  vanities,  and  all  is  vanity.'  It  is  the  only 
word  which  remains  to  me  ;  it  is  the  only  reflection, 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  161 

which,  in  so  strange  an  occuiTence,  a  grief  so  just  and 
so  sensible  permits  me  to  use.  Neither  have  I  searched 
the  sacred  volumes,  to  find  in  them  a  text  which  I  couhl 
apply  to  this  princess.  I  have  taken  without  study,  and 
without  choice,  the  first  words  which  Ecclesiastes  pre- 
sents to  me,  in  which,  although  vanity  has  been  so  often 
named,  it  still  appeal's  to  me  not  sufficiently  so  for  the 
design  which  I  propose  to  myself.  I  wish,  in  a  single 
misfortune,  to  deplore  all  the  calamities  of  the  human 
race  ;  and,  in  a  single  death,  to  show  the  death  and  the 
nothingness  of  all  human  grandeurs.  This  text  which 
suits  all  the  conditions  and  all  the  events  of  our  life, 
by  a  particular  reason  becomes  suitable  to  my  unhappy 
subject ;  for  never  have  the  vanities  of  the  earth  been 
so  clearly  exposed,  nor  so  loftily  confounded.  No  ; 
after  what  "vve  have  just  seen,  health  is  but  a  name, 
life  is  but  a  dream,  glory  is  but  a  phantom,  accom- 
plishments and  pleasures  but  dangerous  amusements  : 
all  is  vain  in  us,  except  the  sincei'e  avowal  which  we 
make  of  our  vanities  Ijefore  God,  and  the  settled  judg- 
ment which  makes  us  despise  all  that  we  are. 

"  But  do  I  speak  the  truth  ?  Man,  whom  God  has 
made  to  His  image,  is  he  only  a  shade  ?  That,  which 
Jesus  Christ  has  come  from  heaven  to  seek  on  earth  ; 
that,  which  He  has  thought  it  no  degradation  to  pur- 
chase with  all  His  blood,  is  it  merely  a  nothing  ?  Let 
us  recognize  our  error.     Doubtless,  this  sad  spectacle 

of  human  vanities  imposed  upon  us,  and  the  puljlic 
11 


162  Inteoduction  of  the  Discourse. 

hope  suddenly  frustrated  by  the  death  of  this  princess, 
impelled  us  to  far.  Man  must  not  be  permitted  alto- 
gether to  dispose  himself;  lest,  believing,  with  the 
impious,  that  life  is  but  a  game  in  which  hazard  reigns, 
he  follow,  without  rule  and  without  guidance,  the  will 
of  his  blind  desires.  It  is,  therefore,  Ecclesiastes,  after 
having  commenced  his  divine  work  by  the  Avords  which 
I  have  recited,  after  having  tilled  all  its  pages  with 
the  contempt  of  himian  things,  wishes  at  last  to  show 
to  man  something  more  solid,  and  concludes  his  whole 
discoiu-se  by  saying,  '  Fear  God  iwid  keep  His  com- 
mandments ;  for  that  is  the  whole  man  ;  and  know 
that  the  Lord  will  bring  unto  judgment  all  things  that 
are  done,  whether  good  or  evil.'  Thus  all  is  vain  in  man, 
if  we  regard  what  he  gives  to  the  world  ;  but  on  the 
contraiy,  all  is  important,  if  we  consider  what  he  owe  to 
God.  Once  moie,  all  is  vain  in  man,  if  we  regard  the 
coiu'se  of  his  mortal  life  ;  but  all  is  precious,  all  is  im- 
portant, if  we  contemplate  the  term  at  which  it  ends, 
and  the  account  which  he  must  i-ender  of  it.  Let  us 
meditate,  then,  to-day,  in  sight  of  this  altar  and  of  this 
tomb,  the  first  and  the  last  words  of  Ecclesiastes  ;  the 
one  which  shows  the  nothingness  of  man  ;  the  othex 
which  establishes  his  greatness.  Let  this  tomb  con- 
vince us  of  our  nothingness,  provided  that  this  altar, 
on  which  a  victim  of  so  great  a  price  is  daily  offered 
for  us,  at  the  same  time  instructs  us  in  our  dignity." 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  163 


SECTION  III. 

PROPOSITIOX,   ITS    NATURE    AND    OBJECT DIVISION,  ITS 

ADVANTAGES,      DISADVANTAGES,     AND      PRINCIPAL 
RULES. 

Having  aimounced  our  text  and  duly  explained  it, 
we,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  deduce  from  this 
exordium  or  explanation  the  great  leading  truth  which 
is  to  form  the  subject  of  our  discourse,  and  this  truth 
we  embody  and  announce  in  the  Proposition,  which 
forms  the  third  point  to  be  considered  mider  the  gen- 
eral head  of  an  Introduction. 

The  Proposition,  which  is  not  to  be  confounded  with 
the  end  of  the  discoui"se,  is  nothing  more  than  a  brief 
exposition  of  the  whole  subject  to  be  treated.  We  have 
already  glanced  at  some  of  its  qualities  when  treating 
of  "  Unity."  It  flows  naturally,  and  as  a  necessary 
consequence,  from  what  has  preceded  it ;  is  expressed 
in  a  few  words  ;  and  must  be  plain,  clear,  and  precise, 
stating  the  subject,  the  whole  subject,  and  nothing  but 
the  subject.  It  may  be  announced  simply  and  in  a  few 
words,  as,  for  example.  Death  is  certain  :  Mortal  Sin 
is  the  greatest  evil  in  the  world  ;  or,  as  is  more  com- 
monly the  case,  it  may  be  developed  and  distributed 
into  its  component  parts  ;  for,  as  we  have  said,  althougli 
the  truth  to  be  proved  is  essentiall}'^  one,  it  may  be 
established  in  various  ways,  and  from  various  points 


1G4  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

of  view.  When  this  is  the  case  we  have  Division, 
which  may  be  described  as  a  partition  or  development 
of  the  proposition.  (For  an  example  of  Division  or 
developed  proposition,  see  page  101). 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark  that  there  is  con- 
siderable controversy  amongst  rhetoricians  concerning 
the  use  of  Division.  As  is  well  remarked  by  an  emi- 
nent authority,  the  dispute  is  not,  whether  there  should 
be  division  in  a  discourse,  but  whether  that  division 
sliould  be  formally  announced.  No  discourse  can  at- 
tain its  end  without  order,  without  a  clear  and  methodi- 
cal distribution  of  its  suljject  matter,  and  this  neces- 
sarily supposes  division.  It  supposes  that  the  speaker 
has  arranged  everything  in  its  proper  place,  that  every 
argument,  example,  or  development  is  where  it  ought 
to  be,  and  this  is  nothing  but  division.  Still,  it  is  one 
thing  to  say  that  the  preacher  must  have  his  matter 
thus  arranged  and  parceled  out,  another  to  assert  that 
he  is  bound  to  announce  this  partition  in  its  naked  de- 
tails to  his  audience.     Hence  the  controversy. 

Whilst  many  writers  are  opposed  to  any  formal 
division  in  a  sermon  there  are  those  who  fly  to  the 
other  extreme.  The  great  sermon  writers,  French  and 
English,  of  the  last  century  are  formal  in  the  highest 
degree.  A  good  deal,  perhaps  too  much,.  o£  their 
spirit  has  come  down  to  our  own  times,  and  we  heai\ 
"  We  will  now  consider  in  the  first  point  ...  in 
the  second  point    .     .    .    in  the  third  point "... 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  165 

much  ofteiier  than  is  pleasant  to  listen  to.  There  are 
occasions  when  a  Formal  Division  is  altogether  ont 
of  place,  as,  for  example,  when  a  discourse  is  short, 
when  it  merely  consists  of  one  point,  when  it  is  princi- 
pally of  an  exhortatory  character.  In  this  latter  case, 
as  the  speaker  seeks  to  gain  his  end  by  appealing  to 
the  feelings  of  his  hearers,  a  Formal  Division  would 
be  woi-se  than  useless,  since  it  is  of  its  very  nature  stiff, 
precise,  and,  to  a  ceilain  extent,  destructive  of  elo- 
quence in  the  real  sense  of  the  word.  It  is  equally  in- 
appropriate when  it  is  advisable  or  necessar}^  for  the 
speaker  to  conceal  his  purpose  from  his  audience. 

With  these  exceptions,  in  all  sermons  which  are 
partly  argumentative  and  partly  exhortatory,  as  is  the 
case  with  ordinary  discoui-ses,  a  division  is  extremely 
useful.  We  have  said  a  division,  because  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  Formal  Division  may  be  secured  by 
adopting  the  less  formal  or  concealed  method,  whilst 
the  intolerable  stiffness  and  apparent  pedantry  of  the 
method  which  deals  out  its  fii'st  point,  its  second  point, 
its  third  point,  and  perhaps  a  half  a  dozen  more,  with 
such  scrupulous  exactness  and  uninviting  plaimiess,  are 
thus  avoided. 

We  refer  the  student  to  the  plan  at  page  101,  in 
which  we  think  the  division  is  as  formal  as  it  ou^ht 
ever  to  be  except  in  the  case  of  a  purely  dogmatic,  or, 
still  more,  a  controvei-sial  sermon.  The  student  will 
see  at  a  glance  that,  l)y  putting  the  division  in  this 


1G6  Inteoduction  of  the  Discoukse. 

form,  "  whether  we  consider  the  sentiments  of  man  at 
the  hour  of  death,  the  actions  of  the  saints,  or  the 
views  of  God,"  we  escape  the  stiffness  of  the  Formal 
method  which  would  say,  "  We  will  now  consider  in 
the  first  point  the  sentiments  of  man  at  the  hour  of 
death,  we  will  consider  in  the  second  point  the  actions 
of  the  saints,  and,  thirdly,  we  will  consider  the  views 
of  God,"  whilst  the  Division  is  just  as  good,  and  just 
as  useful  for  all  practical  purposes. 

A  clearly  defined  division  or  distribution  of  matter 
possesses  many  advantages.  In  the  first  place  it  is 
most  useful  to  the  preacher  himself.  It  aids  his 
memory,  as  well  as  helps  him  in  his  composition. 
There  is  no  genius  so  elevated  as  not  to  stand  in  need 
of  a  restraining  hand.  Whatever  keeps  the  preacher 
from  wandering  away  from  his  subject  is  to  be  most 
highly  prized  by  him,  and  he  is  never  greater  and 
more  successful  in  his  efibrls  than  when  he  advances 
with  order  that  is  governed  by  reason  and  good  taste. 
An  orderly  distribution  of  matter  is  not  less  useful  to 
an  audience.  It  sheds  a  wonderful  light  upon  the  en- 
tire discourse.  It  separates  the  leading  questions  from 
those  incidental  ones,  the  introduction  of  which  often 
only  serves  to  render  a  seraion  obscure,  whilst  it  is 
equally  useful  in  giving  due  prominence  to  those 
parent  ideas  from  which  all  the  details  must  spring. 
It  refreshes  the  mind  by  the  repose  which  it  atfords 
it,  and  thus  paves  the  way  for  renewed  attention.     It 


Introductiois'  of  the  Discourse.  167 

excites  the  interest  of  the  lienrer  ))}■  the  desire  with 
which  it  inspires  him  of  seeing  liovv  the  division  will 
he  Avorked  out.  In  line,  saj's  St.  Charles,  "  experi- 
ence teaches  us  that  our  audience  conceive  a  sermon 
more  i-eadily,  and  retain  it  more  firmly,  Avhen  it  is  ar- 
ranged in  an  orderly  manner.  Knowing  whither  the 
preacher  wishes  to  lead  them,  thc}'^  follow  him  with 
more  pleasure,  and  draw  greater  fruit  from  his  dis- 
coui-se." 

The  principal  objection  to  the  Division  is,  that  it 
interferes  Avith  the  force  of  the  appeal  to  the  passions 
which  is,  after  all,  the  great  point  on  which  the  suc- 
cess of  the  entire  discourse  turns,  inasnmch  an  this  is 
the  causa  efficax  of  pei'suasion. 

This  objection  is  in  a  limited  sense  valid,  but  only 
in  a  limited  sense. 

Most  discoui"ses  are  of  a  mixed  character,  partly 
argumentative,  partly  exhortatoiy;  whilst,  in  all  of 
them,  the  proper  place  for  the  appeal  to  the  passions 
is  in  the  peroration  or  conclusion.  Now,  an  orderly 
aiTangement  or  division  of  niatter  in  the  argumenta- 
tive part,  or  body  of  the  discourse,  hy  no  means  di- 
minishes the  effect  of  the  appeal  to  the  passions  in  the 
peroration;  neither  does  it  prevent  the  same  appeal 
from  being  made  with  much  force  and  power  at  the 
conclusion  of  each  leading  argument,  duriug  the 
sermon. 

On  the  contraiy,  the  division  is  of  positive  advan- 


168  Inteoduction"  of  the  Discouese. 

tiige  in  preparing  the  way  for  this  appeal  to  the  pas- 
sions; since,  by  imparting  order,  reason,  and  sound 
logical  sequence  to  the  discourse,  it  helps  to  convince 
our  audience  that  they  are  acting  like  reasonable  men 
in  surrendering  themselves  captive  to  the  preacher's 
powers  of  persuasion;  that  they  are  not  the  victims 
of  a  momentary  and  empty  enthusiasm,  which  is  as 
unworthy  of  him  w^ho  endeavours  to  excite  it,  without 
duly  preparing  the  minds  of  his  hearei-s  for  it,  as  it  is 
profitless  aud  unheeded  by  those  who  abandon  them- 
selves to  it  for  the  moment  that  it  lasts;  but  who 
never  think  of  putting  into  practice  the  impulses  with 
which  it  may  inspire  them. 

It  now  remains  for  us  to  indicate  briefly  some  of 
the  principal  qualities  of  a  good  division. 

In  the  first  place  it  is  evident  that  it  ought  to  be 
clear.  Our  only  object  in  employing  it  at  all  is  to 
impart  clearness  to  our  subject,  and,  of  coui'se,  we 
shall  scarcely  succeed  in  this  object  if  our  division  it- 
self be  confused  and  obscure.  Our  division,  without 
falling  into  the  extreme  of  absurd  formality,  ought  to 
l>e  conceived  in  terms  so  clear  and  precise,  and  ought 
to  throw  such  a  light  upon  the  substantial  distri]:)ution 
of  our  matter,  that  our  audience  may  seize  it  without 
difficulty,  and  retain  it  without  effoil;. 

2.  The  division  ought  to  be  just :  that  is  to  say,  it 
ought  to  embrace  the  whole  subject,  neither  more  nor 
less;  one  part  ought  not  to  trench  upon  another,  and 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  109 

the  various  parts  ought  to  have  a  necessary  relation  to 
the  whole,  so  as  to  produce  the  unity  whence  springs 
that  perfect  proportion  which  is  at  once  so  pleasing 
and  so  just.  As  far  as  possible,  one  point  ougiit  to 
be,  so  to  speak,  a  stepping-stone  to  the  next,  whicli 
thus  will  be  presented  to  our  audience  with  all  the 
additional  weight  and  force  which  it  derives  from 
what  has  g-one  before;  whilst  the  interest  of  the  whole 
discourse  will  be  continually  increasing  :  Ut  augeatur 
semper,  et  increscat  oralio.  We  must  take  care  to 
follow  the  order  of  nature,  beginning  with  the  sim- 
plest points,  and  gradually  leading  our  audience  from 
the  magis  notum  to  the  minus  notmn,  in  logical  as 
well  as  oratorical  order  and  sequence.  If  the  various 
divisions  be  not  clearly  defined  and  marked  out,  if 
one  member  run  into  another,  so  that  the  preacher  is 
continually  obliged  to  turn  back  and  resume  argu- 
ments or  points  of  his  discourse  which  he  has  already 
treated,  he  will  quickly  become  involved  in  inextrica- 
ble confusion,  whilst  his  audience  will  turn  away  from 
him  in  disofust  at  havino^  the  same  ideas  thus  thrust 
upon  them  again  and  again  until  they  are  weary  of 
them. 

It  is  certain  that  our  division  will  be  just  in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  natural.  Hence,  it  is  impossible  for  a 
preacher  to  lay  down  fixed  laws  for  himself,  and  say  I 
will  always  have  three  points  or  four  points,  as  the 
case  may  be.     We  must  assiduously  study  to  discover 


170  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

iuto  what  divisions  our  subject  most  naturally  resolves 
itself  and  adopt  them;  with  a  firm  belief  that,  as  they 
are  the  mast  natural,  so  will  they  be  the  most  just 
and  the  most  successful. 

3.  Our  division,  though  fruitful,  must  be  brief. 
The  terms  in  which  our  partitions  are  expressed  should 
be  concise,  not  containing  a  single  word  which  is  not 
required  for  the  enunciation  of  the  great  truth  laid 
down  in  our  proposition,  with  the  division  or  paitition 
which  may  be  necessaiy,  and  which  our  experience 
and  good  taste  will  point  out  to  us. 

Not  only  must  the  terms  in  which  they  are  ex- 
pressed be  clear  and  concise,  but  the  divisions  or 
points  of  our  discourse  must  be  few.  If  they  be  too 
numerous,  four  or  five  for  example,  it  will  be  impossi- 
l:)le  to  develop  them  thoroughly  within  the  limits  of 
any  ordinary  discourse,  and  nothing  is  more  indiscreet 
and  destructive  of  the  end  we  have  in  view,  than  any 
undue  demand  upon  the  time  or  attention  of  our  hear- 
ers. As  an  ordinary  rule  long  sermons  are  certain  to 
be  failures. 

The  above  remarks  may  be  applied,  a  fortiori,  to 
subdivisions.  However  much  they  may  have  been 
employed  in  other  times,  the  spirit  of  our  age,  and 
the  practice  of  our  pulpit,  are  against  their  use. 
They  may  be  in  their  proper  place  in  a  logical  treatise, 
l)ut  they  render  a  sermon  intolerably  dry  and  hard, 
whilst  they  impose  an  unbearable  tax  upon  the  memory 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse.  171 

of  an  audience.  InsteatI  of  elevating  and  adding  dig- 
nity to  it,  they  weaken  a  sul)ject  immeasurably;  in- 
stead of  throwing  light  upon  it,  they  suiTOund  it  with 
the  densest  obscurity,  and  produce  tliose  evil  results 
which  it  is  the  very  purpose  of  the  division  to  meet. 
•'  III  eamdem  ohsciiriiatem  rncidnnt  contra  quam  par- 
titio  iiiventa  est"  *  says  Quintilian.  Sul:)divisions,  at 
all  events  to  any  extent,  take  away  all  the  force  and 
majesty  of  a  discoui-se.  To  u,^e  a  homely  phrase, 
they  fritter  it  away  to  nothing;  and,  without  any 
commensurate  result,  by  their  long-drawn  conclusions 
and  finely-spun  distinctions,  suck  all  the  life-juice  out 
of  those  two  or  three  strong  and  vigorous  leading- 
members  of  his  discourse,  which,  if  the  preacher  had 
been  content  to  employ  them  in  their  native  rugged- 
ness  and  undiminished  strength,  would  have  been  so 
powerful  and  efficacious  in  his  hands. 

To  say  that  a  division  must  be  brief  is  almost  the 
same  as  to  say  that  it  must  he  sv)ij)Ie.  The  more  sim- 
ple it  is  the  more  perfect  it  is,  and  true  genius  is 
shown,  not  in  inventing  extraordinary  plans  and  split- 
ting a  subject  into  innumerable  divisions  and  subdi- 
N'isions,  but  in  working  out  and  developing  a  simple 
plan;  producing  a  whole  gi'aud  in  its  unity,  and  beau- 
tiful in  its  simplicity,  from  a  design  which  shall  \vd\e 
that  same  unit}'  and  simplicity  for  its  characteristic 
qualities. 

*  Lib.  iv. 


172  Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 

4.  The  division  must  be  practical.  The  cud  of  all 
our  preaching  is  to  make  men  better,  by  inducing 
them  to  practice  virtue  and  avoid  vice.  Salvation  is 
to  be  attained,  not  by  belief  but  by  practice;  and, 
hence,  in  every  sermon  the  preacher  naturally  aims  at 
some  practical  result  to  be  produced  upon  the  souls 
of  his  hearers.  The  division  of  a  discourse,  therefore, 
ought  to  embrace  that  which  is  to  be  done,  or  that 
which  is  to  be  avoided;  so  that,  by  merely  listening 
to  it,  the  audience  perceive,  at  least  in  a  general  way, 
the  practical  fruit  which  they  are  to  draw  from  the 
sermon. 

Sometimes  we  may  deduce  the  division  of  our  mat- 
ter from  Holy  Writ,  and  this,  of  course,  is  the  highest 
souice  to  which  we  can  go,  because  we  thus  speak 
with  the  authority  of  God  Himself,  and  proceed  ac- 
cording to  the  order  which  He  Himself  has  marked 
out.  Finally,  we  may  divide  oin-  subject  either  as  its 
very  nature,  or  our  own  experience  or  taste,  may  sug- 
gest to  us  as  most  pleasing,  or  useful  for  our  end. 

In  order  to  aid  the  young  preacher,  we  will  now 
give  him  a  few  examples  of  the  most  simple  and  com- 
mon divisions  which  are  made  of  those  ordinary  sub- 
jects which  he  will  most  frequently  be  called  to  treat. 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 


173 


The     End 
Man. 


Siu  . 


of 


The  divine  Per- 
I'ectious :  Omni- 
potence, Sanc- 
tity, "Wisdom, 
Goodness,  Mer- 
c\-,.Iustice,  etc., 
of  God. 


The  benefits 
of  God :  Provi- 
dence, Incarna- 
tion, Redemp- 
tion, Grace, 
Eucharist,  Con- 
fession, etc. 


Death  . 


EXAMPLES. 
(1.)  "What  is  the  end  of  man"?     (•^.)   Is  man 
bound  to  attain  his  end?     (3.)  By  what  means  is 
he  to  attain  it  1 

(1.)  AVhat  is  mortal  sin  ?  (2.)  What  are  its  ef- 
fects in  rejrard  to  God.  angels,  and  men  ?  (3.)  Its 
remedies  in  regard  to  past  and  future  siu. 

(1.)  God  is  everywhere  present.     ('2.)  The  con- 
sequences which  How  irom  this  truth. 
Or, 

(1.)  The  omnipotence  of  God  is  a  powerful  mo- 
tive why  we  should  avoid  siu.  (2.)  A  powerful 
means  of  arriving  at  perfection  in  a  short  time. 

Or  (BOURDALOUK), 

(1.)  God  has  an  essential  dominion  over  us 
which  we  are  bound  to  acknowledge  by  a  sincere 
oblation  of  ourselves. 

(•2.)  A  universal  dominion  which  we  are  boun(' 
to  acknowledge  by  an  entire  oblation  of  ourselves. 

(3.)  An  eternal  dominion  which  we  are  bound 
to  acknt)wledge  by  a  prompt  oblation  of  t)urselves. 
Or  (BossuetV 

(1.)  The  glory  of  God  is  manifested  in  the  con- 
version of  the  shmer.  (2.)  His  mercy  in  the 
pardon  of  the  sinner.  (3  )  His  justice  in  the  im- 
position of  penance. 

(1.)  The   greatness   of  the  benefit  viewed   in 
itself,  in  him  who  bestows  it,  and  him  who  re- 
ceives it.     (2.)  The  obligations  which  result  from 
its  reception. 
Or, 

(1.)  By  my  creation  God  is  the  author  of  my 
being,  therefore  I  am  bound  to  obey  him.  (2.)  He 
has  made  me  for  himself,  therefore  I  am  bound  to 
tend  to  him.  (3.)  He  has  made  me  to  his  own 
image,  therefore  I  am  bound  to  resemble  him. 

(I.)  "We  must  prepare   for  death.      (2.)  How 
we  ai'e  to  prepare. 
Or, 

(1.)  The  certainty  of  death  ought  to  detach  us 
from  all  things  of  the  world.  (2.)  The  uncer- 
tainty of  death  ought  to  cause  us  to  live  in  a  state 
of  continual  preparation. 


174 


Introduction  of  the  Discourse. 


Judgment 


Heaven 


Hell 


Tirtues      and 
Vices. 


Sacraments. 


Prayer 


Almsgiving. 


Religion 


Scandal 


The     Blessed 
Virgin. 


(1.)  Its  nature.  (2.)  The  judgment  of  the  just, 
their  consolation.  (3.)  The  judgment  of  the 
wicked,  their  anguish  and  despair. 

(1.)  The  glory  of  Heaven.     (2.)  Means  of  at- 
taining this  glory. 
Or, 

(1.)  The  joys  of  Paradise  ought  to  detach  our 
hearts  from  the  things  of  the  world.  (2.)  To  in- 
flame us  with  fervour  in  the  service  of  God.  Qi.) 
To  fill  us  with  courage  to  sustain  the  trials  of  life. 

(       (1.)  What  is  Hell.     (2.'i  For  whom  it  is  pre- 
(  pared.     (3.)  How  we  are  to  escape  it. 

(       (1.)  Nature — marks,  characteristics.     (2.)  Mo- 

<  fives — necessity,  utility,  profit,  etc.    (3.)  Means — 
(  general  or  particular. 

c      (1.)  Nature  or  excellence.     (2.)  Necessity.  (3.) 
I  Dispositions. 

c       (1.)  Motives.      (2.)  Things  to  be  asked.     (3.) 
(  Conditions. 

f      (1.)  By  establishing  this  precept  God  has  shown 
I  his  mercy  to  the  poor.     (2.)  To  the  rich. 

<  Or, 

I       (1.)  Obligation.     (2.)  Advantages.     (3.;  Con- 
l,  ditions. 

c   '    (1.)  The  evil  of  living  without  religion;    (2.) 

<  Of  not  living   according  to   our  religion.      (3.) 
(  Happiness  of  living  up  to  om*  religion. 


(1.)  Its  nature  and  enormity, 
ment.     (3.)  Its  reparation. 


(2.)  Its  punish- 


(1.)  Who  is  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary:  the 
Daughter  of  the  Father,  the  Mother  of  the  Son, 
the  Spouse  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  (2.)  Motives  why 
]  we  should  worship  her:  our  Queen,  our  Refuge, 
our  Comforter,  our  Mother.  X^.)  How  we  are  to 
worship  her  :  Invocation  and  Imitation. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BODY  OF  THE  DISCO  CTRSE—IXSTRUCTIOX,  ARGUMEN"- 
TATION",  KEFUTATIOX,  SPECIAL  APPLICATION. 

SECTION  I. 

INSTRUCTION ITS  OBLIGATION,  NECESSITY,  AND  NATURE. 

AVING  introduced  and  sufficiently  ex- 
plained our  subject,  having  laid  down  and 
developed,  in  the  proposition  and  division, 
the  great  leading  truth  to  be  propounded 
and  carried  home  to  the  hearts  of  our  hearers,  we  enter 
at  once  upon  the  establishing  of  that  truth,  we  proceed 
to  prove  our  thesis,  in  what  is  technically  called,  the 
argumentative  part,  or  body  of  the  discourse. 

Our  proposition,  though  essentially  enunciating  one 
truth,  enunciates  a  truth  which  may  be  viewed,  as  we 
have  already  remarked,  in  various  ways  and  established 
by  various  proofs.  These  proofs,  with  their  varied 
amplifications  and  oratorical  developments,  form  the 
parts  or  points  of  our  discourse  ;  and  having  duly  in- 
troduced our  subject,  and  distributed  these  parts  or 
points,  we,  without  further  preamble  or  loss  of  time, 


176  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

enter  upon  the  establishment  of  them  by  means  of  solid 
and  appropriate  argumentation. 

We  scarcely  need  speak  of  the  necessity  of  solid 
argument  in  every  discourse,  since  the  remaining  parts 
of  the  sermon  are  subordinate  to  this,  and  are  effective 
in  proportion  as  they  contribute  to  its  success.  The 
exordium  simply  paves  the  way  for  the  more  becoming 
introduction  of  the  argumentation,  whilst  the  perora- 
tion merely  seeks  to  move  the  hearts  of  om-  heareis, 
and  thus  cause  them  to  put  in  practice  those  virtues 
or  oood  resolutions  of  whose  reasonableness  and  oblioa- 
tion  they  have  been  already  convinced  by  the  preacher's 
arguments.  The  object,  therefoie,  of  the  contirmation 
or  argumentative  part  of  a  sermon,  is  the  full  and  com- 
plete development  of  the  proposition,  with  the  ultimate 
end  of  the  persuasion  of  our  hearers  ;  for,  in  every  dis- 
course, we  certainly  seek  to  make  our  audience  adopt 
our  views,  we  certainly  aim  at  obttiining  for  those  views 
not  only  the  assent  of  their  understanding,  but  still 
more  the  consent  of  their  will  and  their  heart. 

Sennons  may  be  addressed,  as  Canon  Bellefroid  well 
I'cmarks,  to  three  classes  of  persons — to  those  Avho, 
although  in  ignorance,  are  quite  willing  to  receive  the 
truth  :  to  those  who,  though  instructed,  are  in  doubt : 
and,  finally,  to  those  Avho  are  neither  in  ignorance  nor 
doubt,  but  who  are  restrained  by  their  passions,  evil 
habits,  or  human  respects,  from  reducing  their  belief 


Instruction.  177 

to  practice,  aud  following  the  light  which  God  has 
given  thcni. 

If  we  are  preaching  to  an  audience  composed  of  the 
tirst  class,  it  is  merely  necessary  to  instruct  them.  It 
is:  suthcient  to  show  them  their  diit}',  and  they  will  at 
once  embrace  it. 

The  second  class  require  to  be  convinced.  It  may  be 
that  they  are  beset  with  prejudices  which  we  must 
combat,  or,  perhaps,  they  are  in  suc^h  a  frame  of  mind 
that  they  refuse  to  receive  anything  upon  our  Imre 
word.  They  must  have  solid  reasons  for  the  doctrines 
we  advance  ;  but,  once  convinced,  they  lay  down  their 
arms  without  further  parley.  In  their  case  conviction 
and  persujision  are  identical,  and  they  willinijly  re- 
nounce any  vice  as  soon  as  we  convince  them  that  it 
is  contrary  to  the  law  of  God. 

The  third  cla«s  are  more  difficult  to  be  managed. 
They  are  neither  in  ignorance  nor  in  doubt,  but  they 
are  under  the  dominion  of  passions  which  enthral  them 
aud  wdiich  render  them  deaf  to  all  conviction  or  per- 
suasion, until  we  can  manage  to  direct  their  forces 
against  themselves  ;  until  we  can  manage  to  avail  our- 
selves of  those  same  passioiLS  and  turn  them  in  the  right 
direction  ;  until,  by  means  of  a  warm  and  fervid  elo- 
quence, we  can  move  the  hidden  springs  of  their  heaif, 
act  efficaciously  upon  their  will,  and  gain  them  from 
vice  to  virtue. 

It  may,  of  course,  happen  that  a  preacher  may  have 
13 


178  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

to  address  an  audience  composed  exclusively  of  one  or 
other  of  these  three  cllisses.  In  such  a  case  his  sermon 
must  be  adapted  to  the  circumstances  in  which  he  finds 
himself;  but,  as  an  ordinary  rule,  a  discourse  has  to 
be  composed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  embrace  them  all 
at  the  same  time.  Not  only  have  our  audience  dift'er- 
ent  wants,  but  it  also  often  happens  that  the  same  peo- 
ple require  to  be  instructed,  to  be  convinced,  and  to  be 
efficaciously  moved.  It  is  impossible  to  instruct  pro- 
laerl}-  without  strengthening  our  doctrine  by  solid 
proofs,  reasons,  and  arguments ;  impossible  to  reason 
powerfully  and  efficaciously  without  at  least  some  ad- 
mixture of  those  more  tender  feelings  through  which 
we  reach  the  heart. 

Hence,  ^di ether  we  look  at  it  in  merely  an  oratori- 
cal point  of  view,  or  whether  we  regard  it  with  the 
eye  of  faith,  it  is  equally  plain  that  clear,  solid  practi- 
cal insti'uction,  instruction  embracing  explanation  and 
argumentation,  forms  an  integral  and  important  part 
of  every  good  discourse. 

Let  us  look  at  it  for  a  moment  merely  in  an  oratori- 
cal point  of  view.  A  discourse  which  is  well  furnished 
with  sound,  solid  instruction,  which  is  strong  in  proofs 
and  appropriate  arguments,  is  certain  to  be  a  good  dis- 
course. According  to  Horace  the  great  secret  of  elo- 
quence is  to  be  well  instructed  on  our  subject,  and  to 
be  perfectly  made  up  on  all  the  collateral  knowledge 
which  is  necessary  for  the  thorough  mastery  of  it. 


Instruction.  179 

Scribendi  recte,  sapere  est principium  etfons." 
The  fii-st  object  of  the  orator  must  necessarily  be  to 
instruct  his  audience  thoroughly  on  the  subject  which  • 
he  treats,  and  this  is  still  more  true  of  the  sacred  thjin 
of  the  secular  orator,  since  the  very  end  and  aim  of 
his  ministiy  is  to  lead  men  to  the  practice  of  virtue 
through  a  knowledge  of  the  truth.  Instruction  ought 
to  form  the  body,  the  substance  of  the  discourse  ;  the 
other  qualities — the  charm  of  pleasing,  and  the  ix)wer 
of  moving,  supply  the  blood,  so  to  speak,  which  is  to 
animate  and  give  full  life  and  vigour  to  the  body. 
Sicutz  sanguis  in  corjporihus  sic  illce  in  orationibus 
fusee  esse  debehunt,\  says  Cicero. 
.  The  power  of  pleasing  and  of  moving,  according  to- 
Quintilian,  has  no  right  to  be  brought  forward  except 
in  support  of,  and  to  add  full  weight  to,  solid  instruc- 
tion. If  it  be  important,  as  it  most  certainly  is,  to 
j)lease  and  to  move  in  a  sermon,  it  is  infinitely  more 
impoiiant  to  instruct ;  and  we  may  safely  say  that  no 
preacher  will  ever  succeed  in  really  pleasing  or  mov- 
ing unless  he  has  first  succeeded  in  imparting  sound 
instruction.  The  highest  flights  of  oratory,  unless  the}' 
be  prepared  for  by  a  foundation  of  clear  explanation 
and  solid  instruction,  will  be  mere  empty  declamation, 
the  antics  of  a  madman,  as  Longinus  expresses  it ;  or, 
as  Cicero  puts  it,  the  freaks  of  a  drunkard  in  a  company 
of  sober  men.  Hence  we  see  that  the  greatest  orators 
•  Ars  Poet.  t  De  Orat.  lib.  ii. 


180  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

of  antiquity  alwaj^s  paved  the  way  for  the  highest 
flights  of  their  genius  by  a  course  of  solid  argumenta- 
*  tion  ;  and  those  powerful  ajjpeals  to  tlie  passions  of 
their  audience,  by  which  they  carried  all  before  them, 
had  their  foundation  in  the  solid  arguments  which  had 
already  been  established.  It  was  thus  that  Demos- 
thenes proceeded  in  his  immortal  Philippics,  and  this 
is  the  course  followed  by  Cicero  in  those  models  of 
all  that  is  great  in  oratory,  his  orations  against  Cata- 
line. 

Let  us  look  now  at  this  subject  with  the  eye  of  faith. 
It  is  said  that  Bossuet  obtained  more  conversions  Ijy 
his  "  Exposition  of  Catholic  Doctrine"  than  by  all  his 
controversial  writings  or  his  great  sermons.  Accord- 
ing to  the  Council  of  Trent,  the  Holy  Fathers  have 
frequently  converted  infidels,  led  back  heretics  to  the 
truth,  and  confirmed  Catholics  in  the  faith,  by  a  sim- 
ple exposition  of  the  doctrines  of  religion.  Eegarded 
with  the  eye  of  faith,  we  may  safely  say  that  solid  in- 
struction is  an  essential  part  of  eveiy  sermon.  The 
obligation  of  imparting  it  is  identical  with  the  obliga- 
tion to  preach.  When  Jesus  Christ  laid  upon  his  dis- 
ciples and  their  successoi-s  the  obligation  of  preaching, 
Docete  omnes  gentes,  he  laid  upon  them  the  obligation 
of  imparting  to  their  flocks  clear,  solid  instruction,  for 
such  is  the  meaning  of  the  word  Docete.  The  man 
who  preaches  without  instructing  does  not  satisfy  his 
obligation.     He  only  eludes  it.     It  is  in  vain  to  busy 


I]SrSTRUCTIOX.  181 

ourseh^es  about  pleasing  our  hearers  by  the  charms 
of  our  style,  or  the  graces  of  our  diction  ;  vain  to 
appeal  to  those  deep  emotions,  those  master  passions 
which  so  wonderfully  move  and  influence  the  heart  of 
man  ;  unless  we  have  first  laid  a  foundation  of  solid 
instruction,  Docere  necessitatis  est.  .  .  Pojjuli 
prius  docendi  quam  movendi,  says  St.  Augustine.* 

And,  in  truth,  if  we  wish  intimately  to  appreciate 
the  position  which  instruction  holds  in  the  Christian 
oration,  we  have  only  to  reflect  for  a  moment  upon  the 
wants  of  those  to  whom  our  ministry  is  addressed. 

Instruction,  in  the  broad  meaning  of  the  term,  may 
be  said  to  comprise  a  clear  explanation  of  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine,  and  the  establishment  of  it  by  solid  and 
appropriate  proofs,  or  arguments.  Now,  as  a  general 
rule,  do  not  our  hearers  stand  in  urgent  need  of  the 
one  and  the  other  ?  Unless  their  pastor  clearly  explain 
to  them  the  Christian  doctrine,  their  ideas,  even  on 
the  most  es.sential  points,  will  be  confused,  inexact, 
perhaps  false  ;  inasmuch  as  they  have  no  other  means 
of  learning  their  religion  except  those  which  he  may 
afibrd  them  by  his  explanation  of  the  truths  of  their 
Holy  Faith. 

Does  not  experience  bear  sad  testimony  to  the  truth 
of  these  remarks  ?  How  many  persons  are  there  who 
listen,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  to  what  are  called  ser- 
mons, and  yet  remain  in  ignorance  of  leading  truths 

*  De  Doct.  Christ,  lib.  iv,  cap.  12. 


182  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

and  essential  practices;  who  go  on  from  yeav  to  j'ear 
without  ever  acquiring  a  thorough  knowledge  of  their 
religion  ?  Either  their  pastor  knoAvs  not  how,  or 
takes  not  the  trouble,  to  impart  to  them  that  clear 
explanation  of  their  faith  and  its  obligations  which 
would  liave  made  them  intelligent  and  fervent  Catho- 
lics, potenfes  in  opere  et  sennone,  able  to  give  a  rea- 
son for  the  faith  that  is  in  them;  or,  what  is  just  as 
likely,  he  takes  for  granted  that  they  know  a  great 
deal  of  which  in  very  truth  they  are  profoundly  ig- 
norant, and  so,  instead  of  giving  them  that  elomcntaiy 
instruction  which  they  grievously  need,  he  lays  him- 
self out  to  preach  set  sermons,  pei'haps  on  far-fetched 
and  unpractical  subjects,  tilled  with  empty  conceits 
and  useless  speculations,  although  expressed,  it  may 
be,  in  pleasing  language,  and  embellished  with  all  the 
charms  of  style  and  diction. 

From  whichsoever  cause  the  mistake  may  arise,  the 
unfortunate  result  is  the  same,  and  the  result  is,  that 
in  too  many  congregations  we  have  numbers  of  what 
Ave  familiarly  call  half-and-half  Catholics  ;  Catholics 
who  have  such  hazy  and  undefined  notions  on  the  most 
essential  points  of  belief  and  of  practice  ;  who  are  cer- 
tain to  take  the  wrong  side  on  those  political-religious 
questions  which  are  continually  cropping  up,  as,  for 
example,  the  question  of  the  Pope  in  our  day  ;  Men 
who,  either  have  never  thoroughly  known  their  reli- 
gion, or  having  forgotten  what  they  once  knew,  are  l)y 


'        Instruction.  183 

their  evil  livens  a  living  scandal  to  the  Church  to  which 
the}'  nominally  belong,  a  re[)roach  to  the  body  whose 
name  they  bear,  and,  it  nniy  be,  a  heavy  burden  to  be 
laid  upon  the  soul  of  the  pastor  ^vho  is  responsible  to 
God  for  their  eternal  salvation. 

These  poor  jDCople,  the  humble  equally  with  the  more 
resjoectable,  have  looked  to  their  pastor  to  be  fed  with 
the  bread  of  life,  and  he  has  onlj^  given  them  a  stone. 
They  have  come,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  hungering  and 
thirsting,  perhaps,  for  the  food  of  solid  instruction,  and 
they  have  been  sent  empty  away  ;  or,  at  best,  they 
have  been  but  fed  with  some  empt}'  conceit,  some  vain 
speculation,  which  may  have  ministered  pleasantly  for 
the  moment  to  a  diseased  appetite,  but  which  has  left 
no  permanent  or  lasting  effect  behind  it.  Hence,  we 
have  so  many  sennons  and  so  littje  fruit,  so  little  real 
piety  and  so  much  pretence  of  virtue,  so  many  super- 
stitions and  so  many  disorderly  habits  even  in  those 
who  make  a  practice  of  approaching  the  Holy  Sacra- 
ments. 

Yes,  let  the  preacher  pei-suade  himself  most  inti- 
mately, that  if  his  sermons  are  to  be  really  useful,  if 
they  are  to  l)e  worthy  of  him  and  his  high  mission, 
they  must  be  full  of  solid  instruction.  Let  him  feed 
his  flock  Avith  the  solid  food  of  the  Christian  doctrine, 
clearly  explained  and  earnestly  enforced.  Let  him 
never  be  weaiy  of  explaining  the  elementaiy  truths  of 
our  holy  faith,  the  Sacraments,  the  Creed,  the  Com- 


184  Body  op  the  Discoukse. 

mandmeiits  of  God  and  His  Church.  Let  him  insist 
upon  them,  in  season  and  out  of  season.  Let  him  en- 
force them,  opportune  et  importune,  in  omni  patientia 
ft  doctrina.  Then  will  his  preaching  be  worthy  of 
himself  and  his  mission.  Then,  and  then  alone,  will 
he  bring  forth  much  fruit  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
salvation  of  innnortal  souls.  Then,  and  then  alone, 
will  he  truly  discharge  "  the  work  of  the  ministry," 
opus  minislerii. 

Not  only  must  the  Christian  doctrine  be  clearly  ex- 
plained, but  it  must  be  solidly  proved. 

No  doubt  there  are  some  truths  which  are  so  clear, 
or  which  are  so  univei'sally  admitted,  that  it  would  be 
useless,  perhaps  even  dangerous,  to  set  about  pro\ang 
them.  With  the  exception  of  these  primary  tniths, 
the  preacher  is  expected  to  sujjport  his  propositions  by 
solid  proofe.  Our  audience  neither  I'egard  us  as  in- 
spired, nor  the  assertions  which  we  advance  as  infalli- 
ble. The}^  frequently  listen  to  us  Avith  a  certain  degree 
of  distrust,  and  only  give  their  assent  to  our  teaching 
Avhen  it  is  sustained  by  sound  argument.  Anticipating 
that  we  shall  jjrobably  demand  from  them  sacrifices 
painful  to  flesh  and  blood,  very  frequently  they  are 
prepared  beforehand  to  entrench  themselves  behind 
those  subterfuges  which  self-love  may  suggest  to  them 
for  withholding  their  consent  to  the  doctrine  advanced 
by  the  preacher.  If  such  be  the  case,  if  they  be  thus 
prepared  to  resist  the  truth,  let  the  preacher  at  least 


Instruction.  185 

confound  them  by  the  force  of  his  arguments ;  and,  if 
he  cannot  bring  them  into  subjection  to  the  light, 
reduce  them  to  silence.  Besides,  how  often  is  the  con- 
viction produced  by  solid  argument  the  only  fruit  that 
remains  after  a  sermon  !  Emotions  are  transitory,  reso- 
lutions inconstant,  impressions  easily  effaced.  If  these 
aftcctions  be  not  founded  upon  deep  and  earnest  con- 
viction, the  whole  edifice  is  but  as  a  house  built  upon 
the  sand,  which  is  swept  away  by  the  first  wind  of 
temptation,  the  first  whispering  of  human  respect,  the 
first  assault  of  passion,  or  the  first  strong  attack  of 
natural  repugnance  and  weary  disgust. 

Hence  it  is  that  sound  rejisouing,  solid  argumentation, 
is  the  veiy  nerve  and  muscle  of  a  discourse.  In  elo- 
quence as  in  philosopliy,  conviction  is  the  result  of 
sound  reason,  the  fruit  of  just  consequence  drawn  from 
good  and  true  principles.  The  difference  is,  that  the 
philosopher  affects  the  driest  and  most  rigorous  terms; 
whilst  the  orator  seeks  to  hide  the  natural  ruggedness 
of  the  instrument  which  he  employs  under  the  graces 
of  the  garment  with  whi(;h  he  clothes  it,  but  it  is  the 
same  instrument  as  that  which  is  used  by  the  philo- 
sopher, and  it  is  used  for  the  same  end,  to  convince  his 
hearers  ;  the  philosopher,  however,  looking  upon  con- 
viction as  an  end,  whilst  the  orator  views  it  as  a  means, 
an  essential  means  if  you  will,  but,  still,  only  as  a  means 
to  pei"suasion. 

Moreover,  man  being  a  creature  of  reason  desh-es  to 


186  Body  of  the  Discoukse, 

be  led  by  reason  to  comprehend  and  to  a  adopt  those 
truths  which  are  proposed  to  him.  If  he  be  not  thus 
guided,  either  he  does  not  adopt  them  at  all,  or  his 
faith,  being  at  best  but  weak,  is  exposed  to  continual 
danger.  Resting  upon  no  solid  foundation,  that  faith 
is  continually  exposed  to  be  shaken,  if  not  to  be  alto- 
gether overthrown,  by  the  evil  discourse  to  which  he 
is  constrained  to  listen,  by  the  bad  books  with  which 
he  so  frequently  meets,  or  by  the  temptations  with 
which  he  may  be  assailed  from  within  or  Avithout,  from 
the  evil  suggestions  of  his  restless  enemy  or  of  his  own 
corrupt  nature.  Hence,  whenever  the  ])reacher  has  to 
establish  any  truth  which  has  been  formally  denied  or 
called  into  question,  he  must  advance  those  formal  and 
positive  arguments  which  will  place  it,  clearly  and  in- 
contcstibly,  aliove  doubt  or  cavil.  When  there  may 
not  be  the  same  rigorous  necessity  for  advancing  for- 
mal proofs,  there  are  many  occasions  on  which  it  is 
most  useful  to  prove  the  Christian  doctrine  by  solid 
arguments.  If  our  people  have  once  clearly  compre- 
hended the  force  of  those  arguments  on  which  their 
Holy  Faith  and  its  salutary  practices  are  built,  they 
will  not  only  be  secured  in  a  great  measure  against  the 
assaults  of  the  enemy,  but  the}^  will  also  be  able  to 
refute  the  sneering  sophisms  of  the  unbeliever,  whilst 
they  Avill  appreciate  more  intimately,  and  prize  more 
highly,  that  religion  whose  motives  and  whose  pre- 
cepts are  equally  in  accordance  with  the  conviction 


Instkuctiox.  187 

that  flows  from  the  intellect,  and  the  love  which  springs 
from  the  heart. 

Thus  much  on  the  general  necessity  of  instruction 
in  the  argumentative  part  or  body  of  our  discoui-se.  It 
now  remains  to  descend  more  into  particulai-s,  and  to 
examine  more  in  detail  the  precise  nature  of  this  in- 
struction, and  the  manner  of  imparting  it. 

In  order  to  render  his  discourse  solidly  instructive, 
we  need  hardly  say  that  the  preacher  does  not  com- 
mence by  consulting  his  imagination,  or  b}-  selecting 
the  most  pleasing  or  uncommon  figures  of  speech. 
He  commences  rather  by  acquiring  from  approved 
sources  a  fund  of  clear,  solid,  practical  information  on 
his  subject.  Having  studied  for  his  own  information, 
he  then  studies  how  to  apply  his  knowledge  most 
powerfully  and  efficaciously  to  his  hearers  ;  for,  it  is 
one  thing  to  possess  a  certain  amount  of  information 
on  any  point,  and  another,  and  a  very  different  thing, 
to  know  how  to  impart  it  to  an  audience. 

It  frequently  happens  that  the  most  learned  men  are 
the  woi-st  teachei-s,  and  this,  either  because  they  can- 
not comprehend  the  difficulties  of  persons  who  are  less 
gifted  than  themselves,  or,  because  they  do  not  study 
how  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  comprehensions  and 
intellectual  calibre  of  their  audience.  No  matter  how 
well  a  man  may  know  a  thing,  he  must  study  it  deeply 
in  relation  to  his  audience  before  he  will  be  able  to 
expose  it  with  clearness,  and  with  such  method,  and 


188  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

in  such  manner,  as  may  render  it  intelligiljle,  and  by 
this  means  useful  to  them. 

The  uistruction  which  the  Christian  preacher  neces- 
sarily proposes  to  himself  to  impart  to  his  tlock  is  com- 
prised, as  we  have  already  remarked,  under  two  lead- 
ing heads  :  (1)  a  clear  explanation,  and  (2)  the  estab- 
lishment, by  solid  proofs,  of  that  portion  of  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine  which  forms  the  sulTJect  of  his  discourse. 
We  shall  best  investigate  these  important  matters  by 
considering  the  manner  according  to  which  they  are 
to  be  conducted  ;  at  the  same  time  suffo-estino-  to  the 
young  preacher  some  practical  rules  which  may  aid 
him  to  explain  and  establish  the  points  of  his  sermon. 


SECTION   II. 

EXPLANATION    OF  THE    CHRISTIAN    DOCTRINE.       CLEAR- 
NESS   THE    ESSENTIAL    QUALITY    OF    INSTRUCTION 

MEANS  OF  SECURING  IT.       SPECIAL  ADAPTATION  OF 

THE  SUBJECT  TO  THE  AUDIENCE. RULES  FOR  THE 

USE  OF  WORDS  AND  THE  CONSTRUCTION  OF  STRONG 
AND  HARMONIOUS  SENTENCES. 

In  order  to  explain  his  subject  clearly,  effectively, 
and  well,  to  his  hearers,  the  preacher  must  follow  cer- 
tain practical  rules. 

1.  Unless  he  have  positive  knowledge  of  the  con- 
trary, he  must  take  it  for  granted,  as  we  have  remarked 
in  another  place,  that  his  audience  know  very  little, 


iNSTRUCTIOIf.  189 

that  they  possess  very  little  exact  and  definite  int'onna- 
tion  on  the  sul)ject  which  he  is  treating,  and  his  expla- 
nation must  be  always  made  with  these  principles  in 
view.  Hence,  jposiiis  jwnendis,  he  will  explain  his 
subject,  its  nature,  origin,  or  special  bearing,  in  the 
most  simple  and  elementar}^  manner,  clearing  up  every 
difficulty  which  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  exist 
in  the  minds  of  any  of  his  hearers. 

It  is  vastly  less  inconvenient  to  run  the  risk  of  say- 
ing too  much,  and  of  repeating  to  the  more  instructed 
portions  of  our  flock  explanations  -which  they  may  have 
heard  before,  and  which  they  perfectly  understand, 
than  to  say  too  little  and  thus  leave  the  more  ignorant 
portion  of  our  charge  without  that  knowledge  wdiich 
is  absolutely  necessary  for  salvation. 

Besides  as  we  said  abo\'e,  the  most  elementary  truths 
can  always,  by  due  preparation  and  care,  be  presented 
in  an  attractive  and  pleasing  manner  ;  whilst,  on  the 
other  hand,  spiritual  things,  Christian  truths  and  Chris- 
tian practices,  even  of  the  most  elementary  character, 
are  always  more  or  less  obscure  to  the  sight  of  the 
children  of  the  world  whose  eyes  are  blinded  by  mate- 
rial interests,  passions,  and  sin.  Let  not,  then,  the  young 
preacher  be  deterred  from  explaining  simple  truths,  in 
a  simple  manner,  by  the  thought  that  he  may  weaiy 
his  audience  by  repeating  what  they  already  know. 
Experience  w\\\  soon  teach  him  that  they  possess  much 
less  exact  and  definite  knowledije  than  he  srives  them 


190  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

credit  for.     Let  his  golden  rule  ever  be  JSfon  nova,  sed 
nove. 

2.  In  preparing  his  instructions  the  preacher  ought 
to  impose  upon  himself  a  conscientious  obligation  of 
being  very  exact ;  of  distinguishing  carefully  between 
what  is  of  precept  and  what  is  only  of  counsel,  between 
essential  dispositions,  and  what  is  only  of  greater  per- 
fection. He  ought  also  to  be  much  more  solicitous 
about  practice  than  speculation,  about  preparing  his 
hearers  to  receive  the  Sacraments  worthily  rather  than 
about  tilling  them  with  admiration  of  them.  The  rea- 
sons for  this  are  evident. 

3.  The  first  and  most  essential  quality  of  good  in- 
struction is  clearness.  Clearness  is  that  quality  in  a 
discouise,  or  in  a  particular  sentence,  which  enables 
the  hearer  to  understand,  easily  and  luihesitatingly,  the 
meaning  of  him  wlio  speaks.  When  a  discourse  is  thus 
clear,  an  audience  can  no  more  help  understanding  its 
meaning  that  they  can  help  perceiving  the  rays  of  the 
mid-day  sun.  2hm  simjjlex  et  ajpertus  sermo  debet 
esse,  ut  ah  intelligentia  sui  nullos,  quamvis  imperitos, 
excladat*  Clearness  is  identical  with  simplicity'and 
precision.  The  young  preacher,  more  especially  in  a 
country  like  Ireland,  where  nature  has  endowed  her 
children  with  a  warm  and  fervid  imagination,  can  never 
impress  this  truth  too  deeply  upon  himself  He  must 
persuade  himself  that  clearness  and  simplicity  go  hand- 

*  St.  Prosper.     Lib.  i.  de  vit.  coutempl.,  c.  xxiii. 


IirSTEUCTION^.  191 

ill-hand.  In  the  first  years  of  his  ministry  more  par- 
ticuhirly,  he  must  cautiousl}'  restrain  and  control  the 
imagination  Avhich  is  so  ready  to  run  riot  amid  the 
flowers  of  rhetoric  ;  and  lie  must  not  shrink  from  an 
unsparing  use  of  the  pruning  knife  when  he  finds,  as  he 
often  will,  that  he  is  sacrificing  sense  to  sound  ;  that 
he  is  losing  clearness  in  verbiage  ;  that  he  is  heaping 
epithet  upon  epithet,  without  in  any  way  developing 
or  rendering  his  meaning  more  plain. 

It  is  evident,  however,  that  clearness  as  applied  to 
instruction  is  a  relative  term,  since  a  discourse,  whose 
meaning  may  be  quite  plain  and  intelligible  to  one 
•audience,  may  be  just  the  conti-ary  to  another,  less 
gifted  or  less  highly  educated.  The  clearness  of  a  dis- 
course, in  this  relative  sense,  may  be  said  to  depend, 
(rt)  Upon  the  tact,  discretion,  and  judgment  with  which 
the  subject  is  adapted  to  the  special  capacity  of  the 
audience  to  be  addressed  ;  (b)  Upon  such  a  selection 
of  individual  words  and  phrases  as  are  most  proper  to 
express  the  ideas  to  be  conveyed  ;  (c)  Upon  such  an 
arrangement  of  those  w^ords  and  phrases  as  will  form 
a  well-constructed,  strong  and  harmonious  sentence. 

(a.)  St.  Augustine  in  his  work  De  catechizandis 
Hudibus,  and  all  the  masters  of  the  art  of  Sacred  Elo- 
quence, are  unanimous  in  their  opinion  as  to  the  abso- 
lute necessity  of  adapting  our  discourse  to  the  intelli- 
gence and  capacity  of  our  audience.  Quintilian,  in 
his^  Institutions,  devotes  an  entire  book  to  the  same 


192  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

subject,  uor  is  Cicero  less  explicit  on  the  obligation  of 
the  orator  to  adapt  not  only  his  thoughts,  but  his  ex- 
pressions, to  the  capacity  of  his  hearers.  JSfon  emm, 
he  says,  auditor  omnis  eodem  aut  verborimi  gencre 
traclandus  est,  aut  sententiarum.  .  .  Nee  sem])er, 
nee  apud  omnes,  nee  contra  omnes,  nee  pro  omnibus 
eodem  niodo  dieendmn* 

This  is  one  of  the  main  secrets  of  the  success  of  a 
discourse,  as  the  want  of  this  special  adaptation  is  one  of 
the  principal  causes  of  the  little  fruit  which  is  produced 
by  many  sermons.  A  preacher  sits  down  in  his  room 
and,  without  a  thought  of  the  peculiar  capacities,  ne- 
cessities, and  dispositions  of  those  to  whom  it  is  to  be 
addressed,  composes  a  vague,  general,  and  unpractical 
discourse,  just  as  much  adapted  to  one  congregation 
as  to  another.  He  seems  to  take  it  for  granted  that 
all  people  are  gifted  with  the  same  capacity,  have 
leceived  the  same  amount  of  education,  and  are  subject 
to  the  same  intirmities  and  Avants. 

On  the  sf^me  principle,  some  clergymen  take  much 
pains  to  write  a  discourse  for  ever}'  Sunday  in  the  year, 
thinking,  that  when  they  have  done  this,  they  have 
fiiltilled  all  that  is  due  from  them,  and  that  nothing 
I'cmains  but  to  repeat  the  same  course  of  sermons  year 
after  year  ;  as  if  the  Avants  of  the  faithful  never  varied, 
as  if  they  never  made  any  progress  in  virtue,  or,  in  fine, 
as  if  the  preacher,  after  many  years  spent  in  the  minis- 
*  Orav.  lib.  xxli,  and  cxxiii. 


iNSTRUCTIOif.  1 93 

try,  acquired  no  adtlitionul  knowledge  and  cxpericince, 
no  greater  capacity  for  instructing,  guiding,  and  gov- 
erning his  flock,  than  he  possessed  in  tlie  first  days  of 
his  priesthood. 

Now,  this  is  veiy  false,  and  is  not  only  prejudicial 
to  success  in  preaching,  but  is  opposed  to  the  first  prin- 
ciples of  Sacred  Eloquence.  The  orator,  who  does 
not  sedulously  adapt  his  discourse  to  the  capacit}'^  and 
dispositions  of  his  special  audience,  simply  abuses  lan- 
guage. Language  has  been  given  to  man  as  the  vehicle 
of  communicating  his  ideas  to  his  fellow-men.  It  is 
evident  that  language  can  only  attain  its  end  Avhen  it 
is  intelligible,  and  hence,  if  he  who  addresses  me  does 
so  in  tenns  which  I  cannot  comprehend,  he  diverts  this 
faculty  from  the  end  for  which  it  was  destined  by  God, 
and  stands  in  the  same  relation  towards  me  as  a  stransfcr 
whose  tongue  is  unknown  to  me.  Si  nesciero  virtutem 
V0VZ8,  qui  loquitur,  mihi  harbarus*  He  raises  his  voice 
without  any  reason,  says  St.  Augustine,  since  we  only 
speak  in  order  that  we  may  be  understood.  Loqueiidi 
omnino  nulla  causa,  si  quod  loquimur  non  inlelligunt 
ii propter  quos,  ut  intelligant,  loquimur. ^ 

Such  a  speaker  fiiils  no  less  signally  as  regards  the 
rules  of  true  eloquence.  True  eloquence  does  not  con- 
sist in  the  mere  graces  of  style,  in  skilfully  rounded 
periods,  or  in  elegant  figures  of  speech  ;  but  in  the 
power  of  acting  upon  the  minds  and  the  hearts  of 

*  Cor.  xiv.  t  De  Doct.  Christ,  lib.  iv.  10. 

13 


194  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

men  ;  enlightening  the  one  by  means  of  solid  instruc- 
tion and  reasonable  conviction,  and  moving  the  other 
by  those  strong  emotions  which  influence  the  will  and 
reduce  it  to  subjection.  It  is  evident  that  the  tirst  con- 
dition for  securing  these  great  etfects  of  eloquence  con- 
sists in  putting  ourselves,  in  some  sense,  on  a  level  with 
those  to  whom  we  speak,  and  in  thus  addressing  our- 
selves to  their  capacity  and  to  theiremotious  and  feelings. 
There  is  no  doubt  that,  in  this  happy  facility  of 
addressing  himself  to  his  audience,  lay  the  great  secret 
of  that  wonderful  influence  which  O'Connell  exercised 
for  so  many  years  over  the  Irish  people,  which  enabled 
him  to  turn  them  whither  he  would  ;  to  govern  them 
and  to  restrain  them  as  if  they  had  been  one  man. 
Hence,  the  truth  contained  in  the  wise  precept  of 
Quintilian,  Apud  populum  qm  ex  pluribm  constat  in- 
doctis,  secundum  communes  majis  intellectus  loquen- 
dum  est* 

These  principles,  which  are  essentially  true  as  re- 
gards orators  in  general,  become  still  more  practical, 
and  of  still  higher  signiticance  and  importance,  when 
applied  to  the  preacher  of  the  Gospel.  The  sacred 
orator,  who  does  not  do  all  that  lies  in  him  to  adapt 
his  discourse  to  the  capacity  and  special  necessities  of 
his  hearers,  forgets  the  great  examples  which  are  set 
before  him  by  his  Lord  and  Master  Jesus  Christ,  and 
the  Saints.  We  have  only  to  take  up  the  Sacred 
*  Lib.  iii.  c.  8. 


iNSTKUCTIOlSr.  195 

Scriptures,  to  see  how  sedulously  our  Divine  Lord 
varied  the  matter  and  the  form  of  His  instructions, 
according  to  the  capacity  of  those  whom  He  addressed. 
With  the  Doctors  of  the  LaAv  He  spoke  a  language 
elevated  and  closely  reasoned,  full  of  anMogies  and  \f^ 
deductions  logicall}'  drawn  from  intricate  and  difficult 
pjissages  of  the  Old  Testament.  When  He  addressed 
the  people  it  was  in  the  most  simple  and  familiar  man- 
ner. His  words  are  clear,  and  His  language  contains 
maiiy  short  maxims  eas}^  to  retain  and  full  of  substance.* 
In  order  that  He  may  be  more  easily  and  fully  compre- 
hended. He  descends  to  the  most  humble  comparisons, 
such  as  those  of  the  labourer,  the  husbandman,  the 
vine,  and  others  drawn  from  subjects  which  were  con- 
stantly before  the  eyes  of  the  people.  As  St.  jMark 
tells  us,  He  only  spoke  of  those  matters  which  they 
were  able  to  understand.  Pi-out  jjoierant  audire.f  He 
abstained  from  those  which  were  aljove  their  compre- 
hensions ;  Adhuc  haheo  multa  dicere  vobis,  sed  non 
potestis poi'tare  modo-X  Following  the  example  of 
his  Divine  Master,  St.  Paul  addressed  the  Corinthians, 
not  iis  spiritual  persons  but  as  those  standing  in  need 
of  the  most  simple  and  elementary  instruction  :  Tan- 
quatn  parvulis  in  Christo  lac  vohis  dedi,  non  escam  ; 
nondum  enim  potevatis.\  Such,  too,  has  been  tlie 
teaching  and  the  practice  of  all  the  Saints  of  God. 

*  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  t  Marc,  iv,  33. 

X  Joann.  xvi,  12.  q  1  Cor.  iii,  2. 


Id6  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

What  can  be  clearer,  or  more  carefully  adapted  to  the 
capacity  of  his  hearers',  than  the  Homilies  of  St. 
Gregory  the  Great  ?  How  excellently  he  reduces  to 
practice  the  precepts  which  he  deduces  and  lays  down 
from  the  word  of  Job,  Super  illos  stillahit  eloquium 
meum*  He  who  instructs  othei*s,  says  this  holy  doc- 
tor, must  accommodate  himself  to  the  weakness  of  his 
hearers.  He  must  allow  his  instruction  to  fall  upon 
them  little  by  little,  drop  by  drop,  according  as  they 
are  able  to  receive  it ;  abstaining  from  everything 
which  is  too  deep  to  be  useful  to  them.  He  who  acts 
otherwise,  he  concludes,  seeks  not  the  salvation  of  souls 
but  his  own  glory.  In  fine,  to  use  the  language  of 
that  great  missionary  bishop,  St.  Liguori,  '•  If  you  are 
not  bound  to  speak  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  intelli- 
gible to  the  lowly  and  the  ignorant,  why  do  you  sum- 
mon them  to  the  church  ?  You  only  lose  your  own 
time  and  render  the  word  of  God  useless  to  them.  .  . 
But  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  adds  the  holy  bishop, 
"  I  shall  not  have  to"  render  an  account  to  God,  for 
my  sermons,  for  I  have  always  preached  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  render  myself  easily  understood  by  the  most 
simple  and  ignorant  of  my  hearers." 

In  addition  to  these  arguments,  we  might  also  show 

how  the  preacher  who  neglects  toadiapt  himself  to  his 

audience  is  unfaithful  to  the  dischai'ge'  of  his  duty  as 

an  ambassador  of  God  to  men ;  an  office  which'  im- 

*  Job,  xxix,  22. 


Instkuctiok.  197 

poses  upon  him  the  ol)ligation  of  making  known,  in 
the  clearest  and  most  unequivocal  manner,  the  will  of 
his  Master,  and  of  doing  his  utmost  to  persuade  his 
hearers  to  obey  that  will  and  reduce  its  precepts  to 
practice.  We  might  show  how  he  might  just  as  well 
not  protend  to  preach  at  all.  We  might  show  how 
such  a  preacher  is  utterly  without  excuse,  since  there 
is  no  man  who  cannot  make  himself  understood  if  he 
will  only  take  the  pains  to  render  his  discoui-se  clear, 
simple,  and  practical ;  but  we  have  said  more  than 
enough  to  establish  the  general  principle,  and  it  is  now 
time  to  descend  from  the  consideration  of  these  gen- 
eral principles  to  their  particular  application. 

It  is  very  rarely  that  we  form  a  just  idea  of  what  a 
discourse  requires  to  be  in  order  that  it  may  be  fully 
adapted  to  the  capacities  and  necessities  of  the  special 
audience  whom  we  have  to  address.  We  are  too  I'eady 
to  imagine  that  others  can  have  no  difficulty  in  com- 
prehending that  which  is  so  clear  to  us,  and  we  forget 
the  immense  distance  which  there  is  between  the  under- 
standing of  the  man  of  liberal  education  and  that  of 
him  who  has  received  little  or  none  of  such  intellectual 
culture,  him  who  is  incapable  of  seizing  any  thought, 
or  any  turn  of  expression  which  is  not  put  with  the 
greatest  clearness ;  and  this  is  the  first  mistake  w^hich 
the  preacher  makes. 

The  second  error  consists  in  supposing  that,  in  order 
to  accommodate  oureelves  to  the  capacity  of  our  hear- 


198  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

ers,  we  must  speak  in  careless,  uncultivated,  and  per- 
haps undignified  language.  We  forget  that  the  word 
of  God  must  always  be  treated  with  respect,  and  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  command  the  esteem  and  vener- 
ation of  our  hearers  ;  and  we  also  forget  that  simplicity 
of  expression  is  compatible  with  the  greatest  purity 
and  correctness  of  style. 

Thirdly,  we  are  too  ready  to  imagine  that,  in  order 
to  speak  simpl}^  and  in  such  a  way  as  to  suit  our  hear- 
ers, we  must  speak  without  preparation,  expressing 
whatever  presents  itself  to  us  at  the  moment.  We 
could  make  no  greater  mistake  than  this,  as  we  have 
already  shown  in  Chapter  II.  Let  it  suffice  to  repeat 
in  this  place  that  the  more  ignorant  our  audience  are, 
the  greater-  is  the  necessity  and  obligation  of  careful 
preparation,  in  order  to  render  oui-selves  intelligible 
to  them.  The  man  of  education,  of  trained  mind  and 
acute  intellect,  Avill  pro)xibly  have  no  difficulty  in  seiz- 
ing our  meaning  ;  but  it  requires  no  ordinary  pi-epara- 
tion,  no  ordinary  amount  of  patience,  of  tact,  and  of 
reflection,  to  address  with  prolit,  and  success  an  uncul- 
tivated and  uneducated  audience  ;  to  accommodate 
audN  adapt  our  ideas  of  spiritual  things,  and  our  way 
of  conceiving  them,  to  the  ordinary  turn  of  their 
thoughts — thoughts  soon  accustomed  to  be  employed 
upon  such  matters,  and  running  in  such  different  lines 
from  our  own.  It  is,  in  truth,  a  matter  of  no  ordinary 
difficulty  to  secure  this  essential  simi^licity  and  clear- 


Instruction".  199 

noss  without  forgetting  tlie  respect  which  is  ever  due 
to  God's  holy  word  ;  and,  yet  luiless  we  succeed,  to 
wliat  end,  as  St.  Liguori  demands,  do  we  summon  the 
poor  and  the  k)\vly  to  listen  to  that  instruction  which 
is  more  necessary  for  their  soul's  salvation  than  the 
air  which  they  breathe  is  for  the  life  of  their  body, 
that  instruction  which  we  are  bound,  hy  solemn  obli- 
gations which  may  not  be  neglected,  to  impart  to  them? 

In  order,  then,  practically  to  secure  this  essentia\ 
adaptation  of  our  discourse  to  our  audience,  w^e  must 
carefully  study  their  character,  dispositions,  position 
in  life,  their  necessities  and  requirements,  and  frame 
our  sermon  in  such  a  manner  as  to  satisfy  these  condi- 
tions so  far  as  may  be  within  our  power. 

For  example,  if  our  audience  be  composed  of  sim- 
ple and  unlettered  persons,  it  is  evident  that  a  familiar 
and  catechetical  instruction  is  what  is  most  suitable  to 
them.  If  they  consist  of  educated  and  more  highly 
cultivated  persons,  the  discourse  to  ])e  addressed  to 
them  must  necessarily  be  of  a  more  elevated  character, 
more  elaborate  both  in  conception  and  execution.  If 
we  have  to  address  a  mixed  congregation,  we  must 
select  such  a  subject  and  such  a  mode  of  treatment,  as 
will  interest  the  better  educated,  and  at  the  same  time 
be  of  practical  utility  to  the  more  ignorant. 

On  all  ordinary  occasions  w^e  should  be  careful  to 
select  such  simple  subjects  for  our  sermons  as  are  with- 
in the  reach  of  every  capacity.     We  should  be  equally 


200  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

careful,  in  our  development  of  the  subject,  to  employ 
no  proofs  or  reasons,  no  comparisons  or  examples,  no 
historical  illustrations,  either  sacred  or  profane,  which 
may  not  be  easily  intelligible  to  any  ordinary  intellect. 
The  only  preacher  who  is  truly  useful  is  he  who  is 
content,  when  such  a  course  may  be  necessaiy,  to  sac- 
rifice learning,  and,  in  one  sense,  reputation  to  utility; 
he  who  is  content  to  confine  himself  simply  to  that 
which  may  suit  his  hearers  the  most  perfectly ',  he 
who  considers,  not  what  will  be  most  pleasing  to  him- 
self, or  his  own  educated  tastes,  but  most  conducive  to 
the  solid  instruction  and  simctification  of  his  flock. 

Having  thus  discreetly  chosen  our  subject  in  view 
of  the  special  needs  of  our  auditory,  the  next  step  is 
to  arrange  oiu-  matter  with  the  greatest  order  and 
method.  This  point  has  been  sufficiently  explained 
in  Chapter  IV,  when  treating  of  the  plan  and  unity 
of  a  discourse.  We  will  merely  add  that,  of  course, 
nothing  conduces  so  much  to  order  and  clearness,  as 
good  and  exact  definitions  and  divisions.  Exact  defi- 
nitions cast  a  wonderful  light  upon  our  subject,  and 
assist  us  in  the  most  efficacious  manner  to  lead  our 
hearers  from  the  magis  notum  to  the  minus  notum  ; 
whilst  good  divisions  enable  both  speaker  and  audience 
to  see  at  a  glance  the  principal  parts  or  ramifications 
of  the  discoui-se,  thus  preventing  confusion  of  ideas, 
and  securing  precision  of  thought  and  of  expression. 

(6.)  Having  thus  secured  the  essential  adaptation  of 


Instruction".  201 

our  subject  to  our  special  audience,  having  arranged 
our  matter  in  an  orderly  manner,  all  that  requires  to 
be  done  for  the  attainment  of  perfect  clearness  is  to 
select  such  words  and  phrases  as  are  most  proper  to 
express  the  idea  to  be  conveyed,  and  to  arrange  those 
words  and  phrases  in  such  a  manner  as  to  form  well- 
constructed,  strong,  and  harmonious  senten(!es. 

Cleai'ness  depends  much  upon  the  employment  of 
such  individual  words  and  phrases  as  are  most  proper 
to  express  the  idea  to  be  conveyed.  There  are  no  words 
which  are  perfectly  synonymous  in  meaning.  Hence, 
there  is  for  eveiy  idea  some  word  which  expresses  it 
more  perfectly  and  completely  than  any  other,  and 
that  speaker  is  most  clear  who  best  knows  how  to  em- 
ploy this  precise  word.  Without  entering  into  the 
piu-ely  rhetorical  part  of  the  subject,  we  will  lay  down 
some  general  rules  on  this  matter  which  the  young 
i:)reacher  will  find  useful. 

The  fii-st  and  most  essential  rule  regarding  the  use 
of  words  is  that  they  be  pure  English.  This  supposes, 
not  only  that  the  words  and  phrases  which  the  preacher 
employs  belongs  to  the  English  language,  but  that  he 
employs  them  in  the  precise  manner,  and  to  express 
the  precise  meaning  which  custom  has  assigned  to 
them.  Words  may  be  faulty  in  three  respects.  They 
may  not  express  the  idea  which  the  author  intends, 
but  some  other  which  only  resembles,  or,  is  akin  to  it. 
They  may  express  the  idea,  but  not  quite  fully  and 


202  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

completely ;  or,  they  may  express  it,  together  with 
something  more  than  he  intends.  When  a  speaker 
uses  Avords  in  this  loose  manner  he  is  said  to  be  guilty 
of  an  Impropriety.  This  arises,  of  course,  from  an 
ignorance  of  the  difference  or  distinction  which  exists 
between  words  that  are  nearly  synonj'mous,  or  that 
have  some  resemblance  in  sense  or  sound.  To  these 
faults  is  opposed  the  quality  of  Precision,  which  is 
only  acquired  by  long  study  of  approved  authors,  and 
much  careful  practice  in  composition.  From  the  neg- 
lect of,  or  mability  to  secure,  precision,  arises  what  is 
known  as  a  loose  style. 

When  a  speaker  employs  words  which  are  not  recog- 
nized as  pure  English,  he  is  said  to  be  guilty  of  a  Bar- 
barism. This  fault  may  be  incurred  in  three  ways  : 
1st.  By  the  use  of  words  that  are  entirely  obsolete, 
as,  uneath,  ivhilom,  etc.  2ndly.  By  the  use  of  words 
entirely  new,  as,  cognition  effluxion,  from  the  Latin  ; 
or,  dernier  resort,  from  the  French.  This  rule,  how- 
ever, suffers  many  exceptions  and  is  greatly  governed 
by  public  opinion  and  taste.  3rdly.  By  the  use  of 
new  formations,  or  by  compositions  from  simple  and 
primitive  words  which  are  in  present  use.  Greater 
license  is  allowed  in  this  than  in  the  two  preceding 
cases,  provided  the  English  analogy  be  carefully  pre- 
served. 

Although,  strictly  speaking,  he  might  be  guilty 
neither  of  Impropriety  nor  Barbarism  in  their  use,  the 


Instkuctiox.  303 

preacher,  in  view  of  the  special  end  which  is  Ijcfore 
him,  should  also  avoid  all  merely  scholastic  terms,  as 
essence,  accidents,  personalittj,  genus  and  species  ;  all 
abstract  terms,  as  spiritaalily,  mysticism,  asceticism, 
which  the  common  people  do  not  understand  ;  and  all 
expressions  drawn  from  mystical  language,  as,  the 
sjnritual  life,  the  animal  man,  etc,  terms,  which,  al- 
though quite  plain  and  familiar  to  ecclesiastics  and 
spiritual  pei-sons,  are  by  no  means  equally  so  to  even 
educated  laics. 

"VVe  subjoin  the  following  practical  remarks  on  the 
emploj-ment  of  words  from  Rev.  Professor  Barry's  val- 
uable "  Grammar  of  Eloquence." 

"  In  chosing  words  and  phrases,  the  following  rules 
will  serve  to  guide  the  waiter : — 

"  1.  When  the  choice  lies  between  two  words,  one 
with  a  single  meaning,  the  other  with  more  than  one, 
take  the  former.  '  Obvious'  is  better  than-'  apparent,' 
which  means  also  '  not  real.' 

"  2.  Adhere  to  analogy,  as  far  as  possible.  '  Con- 
temporary' is  better  than  Cbtemporary  ;'  because  in 
words  compounded  with  tlie  inseparable  preposition 
con,  the  n  is  retained  before  a  consonant,  but  expunged 
before  a  vowel. 

"  3.  When  no  other  test  will  decide  between  two 
words,  that  ought  to  be  preferred  which  is  most  agree- 
able to  the  ear.  '  Delicacy'  is  preferred  to  '  clelicate- 
ness,  '  incapability'  to  '  incapableness.' 


204  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

"4.  A  simple  form  of  expi-essiou  is  to  be  preferred 
to  a  complex  one.  '  Accept'  is  better  than  '  accept 
of,  '  admit'  than  '  admit  of.' 

"  5.  In  cases  of  doubt,  adhere  to  ancient  usage. 

"  6.  All  words  and  phrases,  which  are  remai'kably 
hai-sh  and  inharmonious,  are  to  be  avoided,  unless  when 
absolutely  necessary.  Such  objectionable  modes  of 
speech  may  be  sometimes  found  in  good  authors.  A 
term  composed  of  words  already  compounded,  or  diffi- 
cult of  utterance  is  generally  to  be  avoided.  Care, 
however,  must  be  taken  not  to  deprive  the  language 
of  strength,  in  order  to  consult  for  its  elegance.  In- 
hanuonious  words  are  such  as,  '  unsuccessfulness,' 
'  inaccessibleness,'  '  patheticalness.' 

"7.  Avoid  obsolete  words  :  foreio-n  or  strano-e  terms 
unsanctioned  ;  vulgar  contractions,  as,  '  gent'  for  gen- 
tleman, '  gemmen,'  for  gentlemen  ;  bombastic  words, 
as,  '  potentiality'  for  power  ;  poetical  words  in  jjrose 
composition,  as  '  morn'  for  morning,  '  oft'  for  often  ; 
vulgar,  indelicate  or  slang  words  ;  local  or  provincial 
tei'ms. 

"  8.  Avoid  unmeaning  phrases,  as, '  with  half  an  eye^ 
'  less  than  nothing.' 

"  9.  Avoid  affected  phrases  as, '  glorious,  highdomed 
blossoming  world.'     '  Their  hot  life-phrensy  cooled.' 

"  10.  Avoid  Greek  and  Latin  and  foreign  phrases, 
unless  absolutely  necessary,  as,  '  posse  comitatus,'  '  pro 
and  con,'  'sine  qua  non,'  'bagatelle,'  'jeu  d'esprit.' 


Instruction.  205 

"  11.  Avoid  provincial  phrases,  called  '  Anglicisnis, 
Cockncyisms,  Scotticisms,  Irishisms,  Americanisms.' 

"  12.  Avoid  vague  and  general  terms  whenever  a 
precise  idea  is  to  be  conveyed.  Select  the  word  which 
conveys  most  nearly  and  exactly  the  idea  to  be  ex- 
pressed." 

(c).  In  order  tosecnre  perfect  clearness  of  language 
not  only  must  the  words  and  phrases  selected  be  such 
jis  are  most  proper  to  express  the  idea  to  be  conveyed, 
l:>ut  they  must  also  be  an-anged  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  form  well-constructed,  strong,  and  hai-monious  sen- 
tences. 

A  sentence  is  a  collection  of  words  expressing  a 
judgment  or  decision  of  the  mind  about  the  agreement 
or  disagreement  of  ideas.  It  principally  consists,  of 
course,  of  a  subject,  a  verb,  and  if  the  verb  be  active, 
an  object  on  which  the  action  denoted  by  the  verb  is 
exercised.  A  sentence  may  be  simple  or  complex,  as 
it  contains  one  or  more  members ;  but  the  principal 
thing  to  bebome  in  mind  is  that,  in  eveiy  perfect  sen- 
tence, there  is  expressed  a  complete  and  finished  judg- 
ment of  the  mind  about  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  the  ideas  which  it  contains.  This,  although 
constituting  the  very  foundation,  not  merely  of  elegance 
but  of  absolute  coiTcctness  in  language,  is  a  matter 
which  is  too  much  overlooked  and  neglected  by  young- 
speakers  or  writei-s,  who  not  unfrequently  leave  their 
subject  without  its  verb,  or  their  verb  without  its  object. 


206  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

Mere  correctness  in  the  formation  of  a  sentence  is 
secured  by  a  competent  knowledge  of  English  Gram- 
mar ;  and  this,  of  course,  we  take  for  granted  in  the 
preacher  or  ecclesiastical  student.  Our  present  purpose 
is,  not  to  consider  those  qualities  which  secure  mere 
correctness,  but  those  which  produce  strong,  vigorous, 
and  harmonious  sentences.  Taking  also  for  granted  a 
due  knowledge  and  appreciation  of  that  fundamental 
rule  in  English  Composition,  that  the  words  or  mem- 
bers most  nearly  related  should  be  placed  as  near  as 
possible  to  each  other  in  the  sentence,  in  order  that 
their  mutual  relation  may  obviously  and  immediately 
appear,  we  shall  probably  best  describe  the  qualities 
which  produce  strong  and  well-constructed  sentences 
by  indicating  the  defects  which  produce  the  contrary 
result. 

Weakness  and  obsciu'ity  of  language  arise  piinci- 
pally  from  three  causes,  from  a  bad  arrangement  of 
adver))s  and  pronouns,  from  the  doubtful  position  of 
a  circumstance  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  and  from 
too  artificial  a  construction  of  such  sentence. 

The  faulty  collection  of  adverbs  and  pronouns  is 
the  source  of  endless  confusion,  and  of  much  weakness, 
in  the  composition  of  sentences.  The  only  practical 
ride  on  the  matter  is,  to  place  the  adverb  in  such  a 
position  as  to  indicate  most  clearly  the  verb,  adjective, 
or  other  adverl),  which  it  qualifies.  Ordinarily,  ad- 
verbs, and  more  especially  "  only"  and  "  always,"  are 


Instructiox.  207 

placed  as  near  Jis  possiljle  to  the  word  which  they  are 
intended  to  qualify.  Pereonal  pronouns  should  clearly 
point  out  the  noun  for  which  they  stand.  They  should 
not  be  introduced  too  frequently  in  the  sjime  sentence. 
An  indiscreet  and  too  frequent  repetition  of  pereonal 
pronouns  in  a  sentence  is  a  source  of  great  amT)iguity. 
Whenever,  on  account  of  such  repetition,  the  noun  to 
which  the  pronoun  refers  ma}''  become  at  all  doubtful 
or  obscure,  the  noun  must  be  repeated.  The  relative 
pronoun  should,  instantly  and  without  the  least  obscu- 
rity, present  its  antecedent  to  the  mind  of  the  reader 
or  hearer ;  and,  in  order  to  secure  this,  it  should  be 
placed  as  near  as  possible  to  such  antecedents  ;  since, 
notwithstanding  all  our  precautions,  the  relatives,  wlio, 
which,  that,  those,  and  whom,  often  create  a  certain 
deo-ree  of  ambiijuity  in  a  sentence,  even  when  there 
can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  antecedent. 

Weakness  and  olisourity  sometimes  result  from  the 
doubtful  position  of  a  circumstance  or  clause  in  the 
middle  of  a  sentence.  The  preacher  should,  as  much 
as  possible,  carefully  avoid  all  such  circumlocutions, 
incidental  phrases,  useless  epithets  or  expressions,  as 
merely  add  word  to  word  without  in  any  way  develop- 
ing his  meaning,  or  rendering  it  more  clear.  He  should 
necessarily  aim  at  disposing  the  words  and  members 
of  his  sentence  in  such  a  maimer  as  to  bring  out  the 
sense  to  the  best  advantage,  to  render  the  impression 
which  he  designs  to  make  most  full  and  complete,  and 


308  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

to  give  to  eveiy  word  and  member  its  full  weight  and 
force.  To  secure  this  he  must  prune  his  sentences  of 
all  redundant  words  and  membei's,  so  that  every  word 
shall  present  a  distinct  or  separate  idea,  and  eveiy  mem- 
ber a  distinct  or  sepai-ate  thought. 

Weakness  and  obscurity  also  arise  from  too  artificial 
a  construction  of  a  sentence,  as  when  its  structure  is 
too  complicated,  or  when  the  sense  is  too  long  sus- 
pended by  parenthesis,  or  too  difficult  to  seize.  These 
long-winded  sentences  are,  according  to  St.  Francis  of 
Sales,  the  pest  of  preaching.  They  weaiy  even  an 
intellectual  audience,  whilst  the}^  render  the  preacher's 
meaning  unintelligible  to  the  simple  and  uneducated. 
When,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  period  neces- 
sarily contains  several  members,  and  thus  becomes  more 
or  less  complicated,  a  short  parenthesis  introduced  in 
tlie  proper  place  will  not  in  the  least  interfere  with 
clearness,  and  may  add  both  strength  and  vivacity  to 
the  sentence.  Without  fall  ing  into  the  opposite  extreme, 
the  preacher,  as  a  general  rule,  will  do  well  to  prefer 
short  sentences  to  long  ones.  We  have  said,  without 
falling  into  the  opposite  extreme,  since,  if  the  sentences 
be  too  much  cut  up,  the  preacher's  style  becomes  harsh 
and  irregular,  dr}^,  meagre,  and  undignified. 

Although,  absolutely  speaking,  a  sentence  may  be 
Avell-constructed  and  strong  without  being  harmonious 
still,  as  a  general  rule,  such  a  sentence  will  possess  some 
degree  of  harmony,  since  this  haraiony  is  the  result  of 


Instruction.  209 

a  happy  choice  of  words,  and  a  felicitous  armngenieiit 
of  the  meinbei's  of  a  period,  qualities  which  are  found, 
in  a  higher  or  lower  degree,  in  every  perfect  sentence. 

Those  words  are  most  pleasing  and  most  conducive 
to  harmony  which  arc  composed  of  smooth  and  liquid 
sounds,  with  a  proper  mixtiu'e  of  vowels  and  conso- 
nants ;  without  any  harsh  or  grating  consonants,  or 
many  open  vowels,  which  cause  a  hiatus  or  disagreea- 
ble gaping  of  the  mouth.  According  to  Blair,  it  may 
always  be  assumed  as  a  general  principle  that,  what- 
ever sounds  are  difficult  in  pronunciation  are,  in  the 
same  proportion,  harsh  and  painful  to  the  ear.  Vow- 
els give  softness,  consonants  strength,  to  the  sound  of 
words.  The  music  of  language  requires  a  just  propor- 
tion of  l)oth.  Long  words  are  commonly  more  pleas- 
ing to  the  ear  than  monosyllables,  on  account  of  the 
composition  or  succession  of  sounds  which  they  present 
to  it.  Those  long  words  are  most  musical  which  do  not 
run  wholly  either  upon  long  or  shoit  syllables,  but  are 
composed  of  a  mixture  of  both  ;  such  as  rejjent,  pro- 
duce, impetuosit}/,  etc.,  etc. 

As  regards  the  arrangement  of  its  members,  it  is 
evident  that  the  music  of  a  sentence  depends  much  on 
their  proper  distribution,  and  on  the  close  or  cadence 
of  the  whole.  On  this  point  it  will  suffice  to  say,  that 
the  rests  of  the  voice  should  be  so  arranged  at  the  ter- 
mination of  each  member  of  the  sentence  as  to  make 

the  breathing  of  the  speaker  easy,  and  that  they  should 
14 


310  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

fall  at  such  distances  as  to  bear  a  certain  musical  pro- 
portion to  each  other.  This  musical  proportion,  or 
cadence,  requires  the  greatest  care  and  most  skilful 
management.  It  depends,  probably,  more  ou  the  pos- 
session of  Avhat  we  call  a  musical  ear,  and  a  cultivated 
taste,  than  on  any  technical  rules,  although  I'hetoricians 
lay  down  many  rules  on  this  matter  which  may  l)e 
studied  with  profit.  We  may  assert  as  a  general  prin- 
ci])lc  that,  in  order  to  render  our  cadence  perfect,  the 
h^ngest  members  and  most  sonorous  words  in  our  sen- 
tence must  be  reserved  for  the  conclusion.  Amongst 
our  English  classics  not  many  are  distinguished  for 
musical  arrangement,  or  for  any  very  laboured  efforts 
after  mere  harmony.  We  may  safely  affirm  that  no  wri- 
ter, ancient  or  modern,  equals  Cicero  in  the  harmonious 
structure  and  disposition  of  his  periods,  in  the  j^Iena 
ac  numerosa  oratio.  He  studied  this  matter  with  a 
care  that  perhaps  was  excessive,  but  with  a  success  that 
was  complete  and  unequivocal. 

Thus — without  ever  descending  to  vulgarity  or  for- 
getting what  is  due  to  the  dignity  of  the  pulpit — by 
a  careful  study  of  the  manners,  habits,  and  intellectual 
calibre  of  those  whom  he  is  to  address,  so  that,  as  far 
as  is  possible,  he  may  conceive  his  subject  as  they  con- 
ceive it,  and  render  his  ideas  in  those  figures,  compari- 
sons, and  turns  of  thought  which  are  most  familiar  to 
them,  as  being  those  which  they  tliemselves  are  accus- 
tomed to  employ  ;  by  a  discreet  and  practical  appli- 


Instkuctioit.  211 

cation  of  the  simple  rules  which  we  have  iudicated, 
and  which  his  own  ever-growing  experience  will  best 
teach  him  how  to  apply  to  special  circumstances  and 
to  peculiar  wants,  the  young  preacher  will  obtain  for 
his  discourse  the  essential  quality  of  clearness. 

In  conclusion,  we  will  only  remark  that,  whilst  the 
preacher,  m  his  instructions  to  his  flock,  will  aim  at 
correctness  and  purity  of  language,  he  will  also  remem- 
l^er  that  for  him,  as  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  in  view  of  the  special  end  which  he  must 
necessarily  propose  to  himself,  there  is  something  infi- 
nitely more  important  than  any  mere  correctness  or 
eleojance  of  lani»;uao;e. 

Hence,  whenever  it  may  be  necessary  in  order  to  I'en- 
der  himself  better  understood,  he  will  not  hesitate  to 
sacrifice  the  graces,  and,  in  one  sense,  even  the  purity 
of  languao^e.  Following  the  counsel  of  St.  Auijustine, 
he  will  study  the  most  intelligible,  rather  than  the  most 
elegaiit  manner  of  expressing  what  he  has  to  say. 
EvidentioR  appetitus  aliquando  negligit  verba  cuUiora, 
nee  curat  quid  bene  sonet,  sed  quid  bene  indicet  quod 
ostendere  intendit*  For,  as  asks  this  holy  doctor, 
■what  is  the  use  of  expressing  our  ideas  in  the  most 
polished  manner,  of  what  use  is  the  purity  and  elegance 
of  our  style,  if  our  hearers  do  not  comprehend  our  mean- 
ing ?  Quid  prodest  locutionis  integritas  quam  non 
sequitur  intellectus  audientis  ?i  And  he  further  illus- 
*  De  Doct.  Chiist.  lib.  iv^,  24.  t  Ibid. 


212  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

trates  his  meaning  by  a  very  ingenious  comparison. 
Quid  prodest,  he  inquires,  clavis  aurea  si  aperire  quod 
volumus  non  potest,  aut  quid  obest  lignea  si  hoc 
potest  9* 

But,  let  the  preacher  bear  in  mind,  whilst  he  strives 
to  follow  these  wise  precepts  in  his  practice,  that  this 
stjde  of  speaking  requires  both  intellect  and  skill.  Let 
him  not  delude  himself  by  supposing  that,  in  order  to 
speak  with  this  perfect  simplicity  of  language  and  of 
style,  he  must  therefore  descend  to  what  is  low  or  un- 
dignified. Ucec  sic  ornatum  detrahit  ut  sordes  non 
contrahat.  Letf  him  rather  remember  that  in  this,  as 
in  many  other  cases,  the  perfection  of  art  consists  in 
concealing  art.  Avs  artis  celare  artem.  It  is  of  such 
simple  instruction  as  this  that  Cicero  is  speaking  when 
he  says,  Negligentia  est  diligens  ;|  and  he  says  what 
is  most  true,  since  this  simple,  and,  at  first  sight,  appa- 
rently negligent  manner  of  preaching  indicates  the  man 
who  is  more  solicitous  about  the  solid  instruction  which 
he  is  to  impart  to  his  flock  than  abeyut  the  mere  words 
in  which  he  is  to  express  it ;  the  man  who  is  much 
more  anxious  about  the  interests  of  his  Master,  and  the 
welfare  of  his  people,  than  his  own  gratifications  as  a 
scholar,  or  his  reputation  as  a  preacher. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  instruction  re- 
quires a  plain,  simple,  and  unadorned  style.  There 
may  be  place  for  beautiful  figures  of  speech,  and  pow- 

*  Ibid.  t  Dc  Doct.  Christ,  lib.  iv.  24.  X  Orat.  Ixxvii 


Instruction.  213 

eiful  oratorical  developments,  in  other  pai-ts  of  a  dis- 
course ;  but  there  is  no  room  for  them,  and  nothing 
but  the  woi-st  taste  would  seek  to  introduce  them  in 
the  purely  explanatoiy  and  instructive  portions  of  a 
sermon. 


SECTION  III. 

THE   MANNER   OF  PROVING   THE    CHRISTIAN    DOCTRINE. 

We  have  said  -that  the  instruction  which  forms  the 
substantial  poiiion  of  the  body  of  a  discourse  com- 
prises two  things,  viz.,  a  clear  explanation  of  Christian 
doctrine,  and  the  establishment  of  it  by  solid  prools 
and  arguments.  We  have  already  shown  that,  although 
there  are  cases  in  which  nothing  more  than  a  simple 
explanation  and  practical  application  of  the  Christian 
doctrine  is  required,  it  is  not  sufficient,  as  an  ordinary 
rule,  to  explain  the  trutlis  of  religion.  These  truths 
must  be  sustained  by  strong  and  convincing  arguments. 
In  the  last  section  we  endeavoured  to  elucidate  the 
nature  and  the  manner  of  imparting  this  necessary  ex- 
planation of  Christian  doctrine,  and  it  now  remains  to 
consider  the  mode  accordino^  to  which  the  argumentar 
tiou,  or  sustaining  of  our  proposition  by  solid  proofs, 
is  to  be  conducted. 

There  are  two  principal  methods  employed  by  ora- 
tors in  the  conduct  of  their  argumentation,  the  analji^i- 


314  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

cal  and  the  synthetical.  When  the  orator  conceals 
his  intention,  and  gradually  leads  his  hearers  on  from 
one  known  truth  to  another,  until  the  conclusion  ls 
forced  upon  them  as  the  natural  consequence  of  a  chain 
of  propositions,  he  nses  the  analytic  method.  For 
example,  wishing  to  prove  the  existence  of  God,  the 
preacher  sets  out  by  showing  that  whatever  exists 
must  have  had  a  beginning  ;  that  wliatever  had  a 
befjinnino;  must  have  had  a  cause  ;  that  man  exists  and 
had  a  beginning,  and  that  therefore  he  must  have  had 
a  cause ;  but  that,  from  his  nature  and  constitution, 
he  could  have  l)een  called  into  existence  1)}^  no  other 
than  the  one,  great,  infinite.  Supreme  First  Cause,  or, 
God.  This  is  a  very  artfid  and  very  l^eautiful  mode 
of  reasoning,  but  there  are  very  few  sulyects  which 
will  admit  it,  and  there  are  fewer  occasions  in  which 
the  preacher  will  find  it  proper  to  employ  it.  The 
mode  of  reasoning  more  fitly  and  generally  adopted 
by  the  pulpit  orator  is  the  synthetic,  in  which  the 
point  or  points  to  be  proved  are  fairly  and  openly  laid 
down,  and  one  argument  after  another  is  brought  to 
l>ear  upon  them  until  the  hearer  is  fully  and  com- 
pletely convinced.  Thus,  in  a  sermon  the  preacher 
openly  lays  down,  in  his  preposition,  the  one  great 
Christian  truth  which  he  intends  to  carry  home  to  the 
hearts  of  his  hearei-s,  and,  then,  in  his  division,  he  un- 
folds the  different  points  of  view  under  which  he  pro- 
poses to  consider  and  establish  this  truth. 


Argumentatiox.  215 

It  is  evident  that  the  eftect  of  an  argument  depends 
upon  the  tact  with  Avhich  it  is  chosen,  the  slvill  with 
which  it  is  brought  to  bear  at  the  most  felicitous 
moment,  and  the  force  witli  wliich  it  is  urged,  or,  in 
other  words,  amp]  i lied.  Hence,  we  hiy  down,  and 
now  proceed  to  establish  the  general  principle,  that 
the  excellency  of  this  most  essential  part  of  a  discourse 
may  be  said  to  depend  on  three  points,  the  invention 
and  selection  of  ar(/uments,  the  due  arrangement  of 
them,  and  their  amplification. 

SECTION  IV. 

SELECTION    OF    ARGUMENTS. 

By  the  invention  and  selection  of  arguments  we  un- 
derstand the  collection  of  a  certain  number  of  solid 
and  convincing  proofs,  whether  they  be  the  fruit  of 
our  own  intellect,  or  whether  they  be  gleaned  fi'om 
approved  sources,  bearing  upon  the  matter  in  hand — 
the  truth  to  be  established.  Ever  keeping  in  mind 
how  essential  solid  argument  is  to  every  really  good 
discourse,  since,  although  he  may  not  absolutely  win 
the  hearts  of  his  hearers  by  it,  it  is  the  foundation  up- 
on which  all  his  ulterior  efforts  in  the  way  of  pei-sua- 
sion  are  to  be  built,  the  preacher  will  probably  be  as- 
sisted in  his  selection  of  proofe  by  attending  to  a  few 
simple  and  practical  rules  which  we  venture  to  sug- 
gest. 


216  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

1.  He  ought  never  to  select  and  advance  from  the 
pulpit  any  argument  which  he  does  not  feel  to  be 
really  solid.  The  preacher  forgets  his  high  calling, 
and  the  dignity  of  the  Gospel  which  he  preaches, 
when  he  endeavours  to  sustain  it  by  a  weak  or  foolish 
argument.  There  is  no  truth  of  our  holy  Faith  which 
is  not  supported  by  the  most  powerful  aud  convincing 
arguments,  and  if  a  preacher  does  not  bring  forward 
these  proofs  it  is  either  because  he  has  not  taken  the 
trouble  to  study  the  matter  on  which  he  thus  presumes 
to  speak  without  preparation;  or,  because  he  has  for- 
gotten his  theology. 

The  very  least  that  we  expect  in  a  preacher  is  an 
accurate  and  expedite  knowledge  of  moral  theology, 
and  of  the  Catechism  of  the  Council  of  Trent.  With 
such  a  knowledge  he  can  never  go  astray  in  teaching, 
nor  will  he  ever  be  under  the  necessity  of  advancing  a 
weak  or  foolish  argument  in  support,  or,  to  speak 
more  truly,  in  derision,  of  our  sublime  and  holy  Faith. 

If  he  have  never  acquired  this  necessary  knowledge 
he  most  certainly  is  not  in  a  position  to  enter  the  pul- 
pit, or  take  upon  himself  the  oifice  of  teacher  in  mat- 
tei's  so  holy  in  themselves,  and  so  momentous  in  their 
consequences,  where  the  propounder  of  ftilse  doctrine, 
or  the  unsound  teacher,  may  be  the  cause  of  perdition 
to  many  souls. 

If  he  have  not  taken  the  trouble  to  keep  up  the 
knowledge  which  he  acquired  during  the  years  of  his 


Arqumentatiojs^.  217 

ecclesiastical  pioluition,  with  so  much  pains  and  hard 
study  on  his  own  part,  and  with  so  much  assiduous 
care  and  zealous  watchfulness  on  the  part  of  his  mas- 
tei-s,  he  has  good  reason  to  tremble,  when  in  his  culpa- 
ble ignorance  he  ascends  the  pulpit,  lest  he  incur  the 
terrible  denunciation,  Maledictus  qui  facit  opus  Dei 
negligentur* 

The  preacher  who  advances  a  weak  or  foolish  argu- 
ment, exposes  our  Holy  Faith  to  the  derision  of  the 
impious  who  readily  discover  its  unsoundness,  whilst, 
at  the  same  time,  they  suppose  or  persuade  themselves 
that  the  other  dogmas  of  our  religion  rest  upon  an 
equally  rotten  foundation.  Such  an  argument  is  the 
ruin  of  a  sermon,  since  one  false  or  foolish  proof  lays 
the  whole  discourse  open  to  suspicion  ;  it  inspires  our 
hearei*s  with  a  contempt  for  ourselves  and  our  doctrine, 
and  it  is  very  frequently  the  only  part  which  the}' 
retain  and  of  wliich  they  speak.  Better  and  more 
becoming  a  thousand  times,  not  to  attempt  to  advance 
arguments  in  support  of  the  eternal  truths  of  God,  if 
we  are  not  able  to  bring  forward  such  as  are  solid  in 
themselves,  and  worthy  of  the  Gospel  which  we  are 
privileged  to  preach. 

2.  The  preacher  should  not  endeavour  to  crowd  into 
one  sermon  of  half-an-hour's  duration  all  the  proofs 
which  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  matter  which 
he  treats.     It  is  vastly  better  to  select  those  which, 

*  Jerem.  xlviii,  10. 


218  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

2)0sifis  jponendis,  he  considers  the  best  for  his  purpose, 
without  troubling  himself  about  the  others.  As  we 
have  just  said,  it  is  impossible  to  compress  Avithin  the 
limits  of  one  sermon  all  the  proofs  which  may  be  ad- 
duced in  support  of  any  truth,  doctrinal  or  moral. 
The  preacher  who  may  attempt  to  do  so,  can  at  the 
best  but  merely  glance  at  his  arguments  without  enter- 
ing thoroughly  into  any  one  of  them  ;  and,  thus  treat- 
ing them,  he  will  produce  a  much  weaker  impression, 
and  do  less  towards  convincing  his  hearers,  than  if  he 
had  confined  himself  to  a  few  good  arguments  and 
dcA'cloped  them  in  a  more  masterly  and  more  com- 
plete manner.  Moreover,  there  are  comparatively  few 
in  an  ordinary  congregation,  who  are  able  to  follow  a 
long  series  of  arguments  and  demonstrations.  Even 
supposing  that  an  audience  were  able  to  follow  the 
preacher,  such  a  course  of  proceeding  would  neces- 
esarily  render  a  sermon  dry  and  uninteresting.  Direc- 
ting his  discoui-se  entirely  to  the  head,  the  preacher 
would  leave  no  room  for  those  powerful  appeals  to 
the  heart  which  move  the  will,  carry  it  captive,  and 
render  it  pliant  to  his  purpose. 

3.  The  preacher  ought  to  take  great  care  to  select 
those  proofs  which  are  not  merely  best  in  themselves, 
but  l^est  relatively  to  his  audience,  and  to  prefer  those 
which  they  Avill  seize  most  easily,  which  will  interest 
them  the  most  powerfully,  and  produce  the  greatest 
impression  npon  them. 


Argumentation'.  219 

It  is  a  very  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  proof 
which  is  strongest  j;p?"  se,  is  always,  therefore,  the 
strongest,  rclafe  ad  audilorem.  It  requires  no  words 
to  show  that  if  an  argument  be  above  the  capacity  of 
one's  hearei*s,  or  if  it  be  calcuhited  from  its  natm'e  to 
make  no  impression  upon  theip,  it  will  be  weak,  fruit- 
less, and  ineffective  in  their  regard,  no  matter  how 
strong  it  may  be  in  itself.  For  example,  the  meta- 
phj^sical  argnment  for  the  existence  of  God  which  is 
derived  from  the  necessity  of  a  fii'st  cause  is  most  solid 
and  miansAveral)le  in  itself,  and  yet  any  one  can  see 
that  it  would  l)e  useless  if  addressed,  in  its  purely 
metaphysical  shape,  to  an  audience  of  simple  and  un- 
learned persons,  from  the  very  fact  that  it  would  be 
above  their  comprehension. 

The  preacher,  and  the  young  one  especially,  should 
therefore  be  on  his  guard  against  that  natural  impulse 
which  inclines  us  to  believe  that  othei's,  although  sim- 
ple and  unlettered,  will  easily  seize  those  arguments 
which  appear  so  plain  and  conclusive  to  us.  He  should 
be  equally  on  his  guard  against  employing  profound 
arguments,  or  uncommon  and  far-fetched  proofs,  when 
addressing  unlearned  persons,  such  as  form  the  majority 
of  all  ordinary  congregations.  His  feeling  should 
always  incline  towards  the  more  common  and  ordinary 
arguments  in  favour  of  any  doctrine.  They  are  pretty 
certain  to  be  the  best  and  most  powerful  when  con- 
sidered relatively  to  an  audience.     They  have  become 


220  ■  Body  or  the  Discourse. 

couiniou  simply  because  they  are  so  true,  and  a  con- 
gregation always  listens  to  them  with  pleasure  and 
profit,  especially  when  the  preacher  takes  the  pains  to 
present  them  in  a  pleasing  and  attractive  manner. 

4.  In  order  to  convince  himself  of  the  relative 
strength  of  his  argu  mentis,  the  preacher  ought  to  ask 
himself  whether,  if  they  were  proposed  coolly  and 
calmly  in'  ordinary  conversation,  they  would  produce 
the  effect  which  he  desires  ;  and  Avhether,  if  he  were 
in  the  place  of  the  sinner  whom  he  seeks  to  convert, 
he  himself  would  be  converted  by  his  own  arguments. 
If  they  will  bear  this  test  he  may  safely  and  confidently 
adopt  them. 

Whilst  treating  of  this  veiy  important  matter,  the 
selection  of  arguments,  we  may  earnestly  recommend 
to  the  attention  of  the  young  preacher  the  method 
which  was  adopted  on  this  point  by  the  great  oratt)r 
MiUssillon.  "  When,"  he  says,  •'  I  have  to  preach  a 
sermon,  I  imagine  that  some  one  has  consulted  me  on 
a  matter  of  very  grave  importance  on  Avhicli  he  and  I 
do  not  agree.  I  apply,  therefore,  all  the  powers  of 
my  intellect  and  my  heart  to  convince  and  to  persuade 
him,  I  press  him,  I  exhort  him,  and  I  do  not  leave 
him  until  I  have  fairly  and  completely  gained  him  to 
my  side."  Admirable  words,  and  full  of  practical  wis- 
dom !  Imitating  the  example  of  this  great  orator,  this 
master  in  Israel,  the  preacher  ought,  when  selecting 
his  arguments,  to  imagine  himself  face  to  face  with 


Argumentation^.  231 

some  one  who  is  deeply  imbued  with  false  ideas,  or  in- 
exact notions,  on  the  matter  which  he  is  about  to  treat. 
He  applies  himself,  in  the  first  place,  to  explain  the 
matter  in  hand  so  clear};)'  that  it  cannot  possibly  be 
misunderstood.  Then  he  proceeds  to  advance  his  argu- 
ments, frequently  asking  himself.  Is  this  proof  solid,  is 
it  clear,  is  it  unanswerable  ?  Is  it  adapted  to  the 
understanding  of  my  adversary'  ?  "Will  he  compre- 
hend it  ?  What  difficulty  can  he  advance  against  it, 
and  how  shall  I  answer  him  fully  and  triumphantly  ? 
Will  he,  as  a  reasonable  and  honest  man,  be  obliged 
to  admit  the  force  of  my  arguments  ?  When  the 
preacher  can  give  to  himself  a  satisfactory  answer  on 
all  these  points  he  may  be  satisfied  with  the  choice  of 
arguments  which  he  has  made ;  and  rest  assured  that 
if  he  employ  them  with  a  pure  intention,  and  advance 
them  with  simple,  earnest  zeal,  they  will  he  powerful 
instruments  in  his  hands  for  procuring  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  salvation  of  inmioi-tal  souls,  the  end  and 
aim,  as  we  have  frequently  remarked,  of  all  his  labours 
and  of  all  his  preaching. 

SECTION  V. 

ARRANGEMENT  OF  ARGUMENTS. 

Supposing  our  arguments  properly  chosen,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  their  due  effect  will  depend  in  a  great  meas- 
ure upon  the  manner  in  which  they  are  arranged.     If 


222  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

(hey  be  not  placed  in  clue  order,  if  they  jostle  or  eni- 
1  )uirass  one  another,  if  they  do  not  at  all  bear  directly 
and  with  the  fullest  weight  upon  the  subject  in  debate, 
it  is  clear  that  much:of  theii*  effect  will  be  lost.  The 
.strength  of  an  army  does  not  depend  so  much  upon 
the  number  of  soldiers  which  it  contains  as  upon  the 
skill  with  which  they  are  disposed  and  arranged.  In 
the  same  way,  oiu'  arguments  must  be  arranged,  com- 
bined, and  disposed,  so  as  to  form  one  perfect  whole, 
having  for  its  end  the  perfect  development  and  estab- 
lishment of  one  great  leading  truth. 

It  is  not  so  easy,  however,  to  lay  down  specific  rules 
for  the  arrangement  of  arguments,  as  it  is  to  prove  the 
necessity  of  such  an  order ;  since  the  effect  of  their 
arrangement  depends,  not  merely  ujjon  the  matter  of 
the  arguments  themselves,  but  upon  an  infinite  numl)er 
of  circumstances  which  cannot  be  foreseen.  Peculiar 
circumstances  may  have  such  an  influence  upon  the 
arrangement  of  one's  proofs,  that  it  may  sometimes  be 
expedient  to  commence  a  discoui-ib  with  arguments 
which,  according  to  received  rules,  should  be  placed 
at  the  conclusion.  Whilst,  therefore,  we  proceed  to 
lay  down  some  general  rules  on  this  matter,  we  take  it 
for  granted  that  these  rules  must  suffer  many  excep- 
tions, and  that  on  this  point,  more  perhaps  than  any 
other,  much  must  be  left  to  the  good  sense  and  expe- 
rience of  the  preacher. 

1.  As  an  ordinaiy  rule,  the  order  of  our  proofs  will 


AllGUMENTATIO^r.  223 

be  suggested  by  the  very  nature  of  the  subject  whicli 
Ave  treat.  In  a  sermon,  too,  the  preacher  advances  in 
the  fii-st  place  the  arguments  which  will  help  his  hear- 
ei"s  to  understand  and  appreciate  the  full  force  of  those 
Avhich  are  to  follow.  He  passes  from  what  is  more 
general  to  what  is  particular,  from  the  genus  to  the 
species,  from  that  which  is  easy  to  that  Avhich  is  diffi- 
cult, from  the  known  to  the  unknown. 

Nature  herself  suggests  to  us  to  group  together  those 
arguments  which  appertain  to  the  same  order,  and 
which,  being  comprised  in  the  same  general  idea,  tend 
to  the  same  end.  It  is  coutraiy  Ijoth  to  good  sense 
and  to  order,  to  pass  from  one  line  of  arguments  to 
another,  and  then  return  after  a  while  to  the  first. 
For  example,  it  is  contrary  to  good  order  to  establish 
our  point  in  the  first  place  by  proofs  from  authority, 
then  to  proceed  to  proofs  from  reason,  returning  in 
the  end  to  arguments  from  authority.  Thus,  if  we 
were  treating  of  any  virtue  or  vice,  it  would  be  essen- 
tially out  of  order  to  speak  fii-st  of  its  obligation,  then 
of  its  eliects,  and  lastly,  to  return  to  the  proofs  for  its 
obligation.  We  must  take  each  point  in  due  order, 
as  ex.  g.^  the  necessity  of  humility,  and  its  utility  as 
shown  in  the  advantages  which  it  brings  to  man,  peace 
Avith  God,  Avith  his  neighbour,  and  himself;  and 
liaA'ing  sufficiently  proved  each  point,  we  must  pass  on 
to  the  next  Avithout  returning  to  that  Avhich  has  been 
already  established. 


224  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

Whilst  nature  hei-self  suggests  to  us  to  group  to- 
gether those  arguments  which  are  in  the  same  order, 
she  points  out  with  equal  clearness  the  impropriety  of 
l^lencling  those  which  are  of  a  separate  nature.  All 
arguments  tend  to  prove  one  or  other  of  three  things, 
That  something  is  triie^  that  it  is  morally  rigJit  and 
just,  or  that  it  is  profitable  and  good,  since  these  are 
the  three  great  principles  by  which  mankind  is  gov- 
erned— truth,  duty,  and  interest.  At  the  same  time, 
the  arguments  for  establishing  these  o-reat  motives  of 
action  are  generically  distinct,  and,  as  they  are  ad- 
dressed to  different  principles  in  human  nature,  should 
be  kept  separate  and  distinct  in  reasoning  ;  and  not, 
as  is  often  the  case  in  sermons,  be  confusedly  blended 
under  one  general  topic.  If,  for  example,  I  am  preach- 
ing on  the  love  of  my  neighbour,  I  may  take  my  first 
argument  from  the  inward  satisfaction  which  a  benev- 
olent temper  aflbrds,  my  second  from  the  obligation 
Av^hich  Christ  imposes  upon  us  of  loving  our  neigh- 
bour, and  my  third  from  its  tendency  to  procure  us 
the  good  will  of  those  around  us.  My  arguments  are 
good  in  themselves,  but,  according  to  Dr.  Blair,  I 
have  arranged  them  wrongly.  My  first  and  third  are 
taken  from  considerations  of  interest,  and  between 
these  I  have  introduced  one  which  rests  solelj^  upon 
duty,  thus  rendering  my  reasoning  obscure  and  con- 
fused. 

2.  The  second  thiuij  to  be  obseiTed  in  the  order  of 


Argumentation.  225 

arguments  is  to  dispose  them  in  such  a  manner  that, 
as  far  as  possible,  the  discourse  may  continually  ad- 
vance in  strength  by  way  of  climax,  id  augeatur  semper 
et  inci'escal  oralio  ;  that  each  proof  may  excel  that 
which  preceded  it ;  that  the  concluding  ones  may  be 
the  strongest,  the  best  adapted  to  move  our  hearers,  to 
leave  them  without  reply — the  subjects  of  an  intimate 
and  profound  conviction. 

Some  rhetoricians  assign  the  followino;  order  of 
proofs — Fortiora,  Fortra,  Fortissima.  They  suppose 
the  argumenta  fortia  to  be  somewhat  weak  and  feel)le, 
and  so  place  them  between  the  strong  arguments  with 
which  the  orator  should  commence,  and  those  still 
more  powerful  ones  with  Avhich  he  should  conclude 
his  discourse. 

It  may  be  well  doubted  whether  the  Christian  orator 
is  ever  under  the  necessity  of  employing  any  argu- 
ments except  those  which  are  Forliora  and  Fortissima, 
but  if  it  ever  be  necessary  or  expedient  to  use  such  as 
are  less  strong,  less  conclusive,  or  merely  suasory,  the 
aljove  is  certainly  the  order  in  which  they  should  be 
arranged. 

In  any  case,  the  preacher  i-eserves  his  most  telling- 
arguments  for  the  conclusion  of  his  discourse,  since 
the  last  impressions  remain  most  vividly  impressed 
upon  the  minds  of  his  hearers,  and  since  this  is  the 
decisive  moment  of  the  argumentative  conflict.     Now 

or  never  is  he  to  gain  his  victory.     By  a  succession  of 
15 


236  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

l^owerfiil  and  telling  proofs  he  has  l)een  gradually 
gaining  upon  his  hearers,  gradually  preparing  the  Avay 
for  complete  and  unequivocal  conviction,  and,  now, 
like  a  skilful  general,  he  comes  in  at  the  decisive  mo- 
ment with  all  the  force  of  his  last  and  most  unanswer- 
able argument,  and  cari'ies  all  before  him. 

And  not  only  must  the  preacher  most  carefully 
follow  this  form  of  argumentation  as  regards  the 
various  proofs  l^y  which  he  may  estaljlish  any  one 
point  of  his  discourse,  but  also  as  regards  the  points 
themselves.  The  strongest  and  most  telling  point 
must  1)0  placed  the  last. 

Nor  must  he  lose  sight  of  what  we  have  already 
sufficiently  dwelt  upon  m  another  place — viz.,  that  on 
all  these  matters  we  speak  not  absolutely  but  relatively. 
Hence,  in  the  plan  of  a  discourse  at  page  101,  he  will 
see  that  we  have  put  in  the  tirst  place  the  argument 
deduced  from  the  views  of  God,  and  in  the  last,  that 
derived  from  the  sentiments  of  different  classes  of  men 
at  the  hour  of  death.  Now,  the  argument  from  the 
views  of  God  is  j9er  se  a  much  stronger  argument  than 
the  one  derived  from  the  sentiments  of  the  dying,  and 
yet  we  have  put  this  in  the  last  place  because  being, 
in  some  measure,  an  argumentum  ad  hominem,  it  pos- 
sesses a  much  greater  relative  force,  and  if  well  devel- 
oped will  produce  a  much  more  powerful  effect,  simply 
because  it  is  so  much  more  sensible.  In  the  same 
way,  although  the  proofs  which  rest  on  the  Divine 


Argumentation.  227 

Authority  arc  naturally  stronger  than  those  Avliich 
are  derived  from  reason  or  example,  it  does  not  ahvays 
folloAV  that  they  are  to  be  put  in  the  last  place,  simply 
because  there  are  many  circumstances  in  which,  al- 
tliough  stronger  in  themselves,  they  are  less  efiective 
than  those  other  arguments  which,  although  essen- 
tially weaker,  have  a  more  immediate  and  telling 
influence  upon  the  heart  of  man. 

Hence,  the  order  so  generally  followed  in  arranging 
our  proofs  :  —  1.  From  Iloh^  Scripture,  or  the  Divine 
Authority.  2.  From  the  Fathers,  as  explaining,  or 
commenting  on  the  meaning  of  Scripture,  etc,  etc. 
3.  From  the  motives  furnished  by  reason  :  as  the  utility 
and  advantages  of  vii-fue,  or  the  evil  consequences  of 
the  contrary  vice.  4.  From  examples  and  comparisons  : 
as  illustrating  the  matter  and  rendering  it  more  practical 
and  sensible.  5.  From  the  answers  to  any  objectioris 
Avhich  the  preacher  may  think  fit  to  advance.  This  is 
the  order,  which  we  are  inclined,  ommbns  jjensatifi,  to 
consider  the  most  useful,  and  it  is  that  which  is  most 
generally  followed.  It  is  that  recommended  by  Father 
Lohner,  no  mean  authority  on  the  matter,  who  thus 
speaks  of  it.  IJcvc  meihodus,  uti,  darissima  et  facil- 
Iima,  ita pro  jplehe  instruenda  aptissinia  est*  It  is 
also  the  one  recommended  by  St.  Francis  de  Sales. 

Canon  Bellefroid,  in  his  erudite  and  elegant  work,  f 
seems  to  prefer  an  order  which  differs  somewhat  from 
*  De  munere  concionaudi.  t  Mamiel  d'  Eloquence  Sacree. 


228  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

the  above.  "  It  will  be  found  useful ,"  he  writes,  "to 
employ,  in  the  firet  place,  proofs  from  reason.  These 
kind  of  proofs  are  adapted  to  the  capacity  of  all  the 
world,  and  they  prepare  the  way  for  the  authorities 
which  we  intend  to  invoke.  Next  will  follow  Holy 
Scripture,  which,  in  seeming  to  make  some  concession 
to  reason,  will  really  subjugate  and  gain  it  to  the  side 
of  the  Divine  Authority.  As  there  may  be  some 
ambiguity  or  obscurity  of  meaning  in  the  texts  which 
are  quoted,  we  introduce  the  testimony  of  the  Fathers, 
who  are  at  once  the  most  natural  and  the  most  authori- 
tative interpretei-s  of  Holy  Writ.  Finally,  we  in- 
troduce examples  which  may  help  to  confirm  the 
doctrine  which  we  have  laid  down,  render  it  more 
striking,  and  encom-age  our  hearei"s  to  reduce  it  to 
practice  by  placing  attractive  and  engaging  models 
before  their  eyes.  The  order,  then,  followed  b}^  Bel- 
lefroid,  and  it  is  also  that  of  Pere  Caussin  the  Jesuit, 
is — 1.  Proofs  from  reason.  2.  From  Scripture.  3. 
From  the  Fathers.     4.  Examples. 

It  is  probably  a  matter  of  very  little  consequence 
which  of  these  arrangements  the  preacher  may  adopt. 
As  we  have  just  remarked,  we  are  inclined  to  prefer 
the  former  as  an  ordinary  rule.  It  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  add  that  this  arrangement  is  equally  applicable 
to  the  discourse  which  contains  a  formal  division,  as  to 
that  which  merely  aspires  to  the  establishment  of  the 
general  proposition  which  may  be  laid  down  wtliout 


ARGUMENTATIOJf.  229 

any  attempt  to  divide  it  into  its  component  pai-ts.  For 
example,  if  the  disconrse  be  not  divided  into  "  points," 
the  general  proposUion  may  be  proved  from  Scripture, 
the  Fathers,  reason  illustrated  by  examples,  etc.,  etc., 
and,  then  the  1st  Point  of  ^e  semion  will  be  proofs 
from  Scripture,  etc.,  and  the  2nd  Point,  proofs  from 
reason,  etc.  If  the  proposition  be  divided,  then  each 
point  may  be  established  in  precisely  the  same  order, 
the  only  difference  being,  that,  when  there  are  several 
points  to  be  proved,  the  various  arguments  will  not, 
of  course,  bear  the  same  amount  of  development  as 
when  the  preacher  has  simply  to  sustain  the  proposi- 
tion in  its  general  aspect,  without  any  relation  to  those 
special  bearings  which  are  brought  out  in  a  division. 

We  have  said  that  our  arguments  may  be  arranged 
in  this  order,  but  let  not  the  young  preacher  suppose 
that  he  is  therefore  always  bound  to  prove  his  propo- 
sition, or  the  points  into  which  he  may  divide  his 
discourse,  from  Scripture,  the  Fathers,  reason,  etc.  It 
may  sometimes  be  quite  sufficient  to  establish  his  point 
from  Scripture  alone,  or  from  Tradition,  or  from 
reason.  It  is  difficult,  as  we  remarked  at  the  com- 
mencement of  this  section,  to  lay  do^^^l  any  specific 
rules  on  this  matter,  since  it  is  impossible  to  draw  up 
any  rules  which  will  meet  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case.  We  have  done  all  that  was  in  our  power,  viz., 
to  glance  at  those  general  principles  on  which  all  are 
agreed,  and  we  must  leave  their  special  application  to 


230  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

the  good  sense,  the  watchful  zeal,  and  the  evergrowing 
experience  of  the  pastor  of  souls. 

All  that  remains  to  be  said  on  this  matter  is,  that, 
after  having  arranged  the  order  of  his  proofs,  the 
preacher  must  take  care  to  connect  them  naturally  one 
with  another,  so  that  they  may  constitute  the  integral 
and  well-arranged  members  of  a  body  whose  special 
characteristic  is  unity.  This  connection  which  binds 
one  proof  to  another,  one  part  of  a  discourse  to  another, 
is  known  by  the  name  of  "  Transition.  "  Transition  is 
that  form  of  expression,  or  that  turn  of  thought,  which 
the  preacher  employs  in  order  that  he  may  pass  natu- 
rally, without  violence  or  abruptness,  from  one  sul)ject 
to  another,  from  one  argument  to  another.  This  natu- 
ral transition  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  since,  with- 
out it,  a  discom'se  is  nothing  more  than  a  hash,  com- 
posed of  various  parts  which  approach  without  ever 
luiiting,  which  succeed  one  another  without  following.* 
The  most  excellent  transitions  are  those  which  spring 
from  the  verj'  essence  of  the  suliject  itself,  and  have  an 
equal  relation  to  that  which  the  preacher  has  said  as 
to  that  which  he  is  about  to  stiy. 

"  Transitions,  which  are  only  built  on  the  mechanism 
of  the  style,  and  merely  consist  in  a  fictitious  connec- 
tion l)etween  the  last  word  of  the  paragraph  which 
finishes,  and  the  first  word  of  the  sentence  which 
begins,  cannot,  with  propriety,  l)e  admitted  as  natural, 
*  Yau  Hemel.     Precis  de  Ehetorique  Sacree. 


Argumentation'.  231 

but  are  rather  forced  coni))iiiations.  True  rhetorical 
tran.sitions  are  such  as  follow  the  course  of  the  rciison- 
ing,  or  sentiment,  with  ease,  almost  without  art,  and 
iu)perceived  by  the  hearer  ;  such  as  unite  the  materials 
of  the  discourse,  instead  of  merely  suspending  some 
phrases  upon  each  other ;  such  as  bind  the  Avliole  to- 
gether, without  obliging  the  preacher  to  compose  a 
new  exordimn  to  each  subdivision  which  his  plan  ex- 
hibits to  him  ;  such  as  form  an  orderly  and  methodical 
arrangement  by  the  simple  unfolding  of  the  ideas,  in 
some  measure  imperceptible  to  the  orator  himself: 
such  as  call  for,  and  correspond  with,  each  other  by  an 
inevitable  analogy,  and  not  by  an  unexpected  associa- 
tion ;  such,  in  fine,  as  meditation  produces  by  suggest- 
ing valuable  thoughts,  not  such  as  the  pen  furnishes 
m  its  search  after  combined  reseml)lances."* 

Massillon,  in  his  sermon  on  the  charity  of  the  great, 
thus  passes  from  the  first  part  of  his  discourse  to  the 
second.  "  If,''  says  he,  "  charity  towards  the  people 
is  the  first  duty  of  the  great,  is  it  not  also  the  greatest 
luxury  of  tliek  greatness  ?"  Instead  of  searching  for 
some  intermediate  idea  b}'-  which  to  pass  from  one 
point  of  the  discourse  to  another,  as  a  less  skilful  ora- 
tor would  have  done,  he  makes  use  of  the  very  funda- 
mental idea  of  the  whole  discourse  for  this  jjurpose. 
Arguments  connected  l)y  skilful  Transitions  are,  accord- 
ing to  Cicero,  like  stones  so  thoroughly  polished  that 
*  Maury. 


233  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

they  unite  without  the  aid  of  cement.  A  discourse 
wliose  parts  are  thus  skilfully  united  reseuibles  a  work 
of  art  which  is  cast  in  one  piece,  where  the  eye  looks 
in  vain  for  seam  or  joint.  As  the  object  of  these  Tran- 
sitions is  to  enable  the  preacher  to  pass  gracefully  and 
without  violence  from  one  argument  or  point  to  another, 
it  follows  that  the  more  natural  they  are  the  more  etfec- 
tually  they  will  attain  their  end. 


SECTION  VI. 

AMPLIFICATION  OF  ARGUMENTS,  ITS  NATURE  AND  NECES- 
SITY. SOURCES  OF  AMPLIFICATION  : SACRED  SCRIP- 
TURE ;  THE  FATHERS  ;  THEOLOGY,  SCHOLASTIC  AND 
ASCETIC  ;  COMPARISONS,  EXAMPLES,  AND  PARABLES; 
REASON. EXAMPLES.  , 

Although  the  effect  of  our  reasoning  depends  veiy 
much  upon  the  due  selection  and  arrangement  of  our 
arguments,  it  depends  still  more  upon  their  amplifica- 
tion, or,  in  other  words,  upon  the  force,  vigour,  beauty, 
and  practical  application,  with  which  they  are  put. 

The  student  will  see  at  a  glance  that  "  pure  reason- 
ing," and  "  amplification,"  although  most  strictly  con- 
nected, are  not  jirecisely  one  and  the  same  thing.  The 
latter  is  a  development  of  the  former.  United,  they 
present  truth  in  its  strongest  and  most  engaging  col- 
oui"S,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  to  bring  it  home,  not 
only  to  the  understanding,  but  also  to  the  heart. 


Argumentation.  233 

Rejisoning  embraces  all  sorts  of  questions,  and  all 
sorts  of  diseoui-scs,  and  reduces  everything  to  a  syllo- 
gism. Amplification  comes  into  play  when  it  is  not 
merely  sufficient  to  form  a  good  argument,  but  when 
it  is  equally  necessary  to  form  it  in  such  a  manner,  and 
to  express  it  in  such  language,  as  will  render  it  intelli- 
gible to  the  persons  to  whom  it  is  addressed,  and  j^ow- 
erfal  for  the  purpose  which  the  speaker  proposes  to 
himself  in  employing  it. 

Reasoning  addresses  itself  simply  to  the  understand- 
ing, and  has  no  other  object  than  to  convince.  Ampli- 
fication addresses  itself  to  the  heart  as  well,  and  seeks 
to  influence  and  act  upon  the  Avill,  thus  partaking  of 
the  nature  both  of  conviction  and  persuasion. 

It  is  quite  certain  that  every  good  argument  is  reduci- 
ble to  a  syllogism,  but  it  is  equally  certain  that  the  ora- 
tor must  disouise  the  naked  skeleton,  the  form  of  his 
argument,  under  the  beauties  of  language.  The  syllo- 
jlism  holds  the  same  relation  to  a  discoui-se  as  the  bones 
and  muscles  do  to  the  human  body.  These,  if  seen  in 
their  nakedness,  present  a  repulsive  spectacle,  and  the 
syllogism,  although  containing  the  form  of  a  vigorous 
argument,  is  simply  distasteful  and  loathsome  when 
presented  to  an  audience  in  its  logical  dryness,  and  its 
uninviting  plainness. 

Putting  pei*suasion  altogether  out  of  the  question,  it 
would  be  simply  impossible  to  get  an  audience  to  fol- 
low that  succession  of  dry,  sharp,  conclusive  syllogisms 


234  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

Avhich  would  be  the  glory  of  a  logician.  Being  luader 
the  painful  necessity  of  following  the  diseonrse  with  an 
attention  at  full  strain,  since,  if  one  link  of  the  chain 
of  reasoning  be  lost  the  whole  aro-unient  is  irretrieva- 
bly  gone,  they  would  soon  give  up  attempting  to  fol- 
low at  all  ;  whilst  there  would  be  many  who,  spite  of 
their  deepest  attention,  would  not  be  able  to  compre- 
hend the  drift  or  bearing  of  an  argument  conducted  in 
this  manner.  The  discourse  being  thus  rendered  unin- 
telligible to  many,  and  unpardonably  dry  to  all,  would 
become  altogether  useless  and  without  fruit.  We  may 
express,  and  fully  announce  a  great  leading  truth  in 
even  a  single  sjdlogism,  liut  the  force  of  an  argument 
thus  expressed  would  most  surely  escape  the  compre- 
hension of  any  ordinary  congregation,  unless  it  were 
explained  and  developed  ;  or,  in  other  words,  ampli- 
fied. The  germ  of  the  argument  ought  to  be  contained 
in,  or,  at  least,  be  easily  reducible  to  a  syllogism,  but 
it  is  the  duty  of  the  rhetorician,  in  contradistinction  to 
the  logician,  to  develop  this  germ,  and,  by  the  aid  of 
language  and  the  resources  of  oratory,  to  render  it  not 
merely  intelligible,  but  plejising  and  attractive  to  all. 

This  is  what  is  understood  by  the  amplification  of  * 
arguments,  and,  hence,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  great 
masters  of  oratory  attach  so  much  importance  to  it. 
Una  laus et propria  oratorio,  says  Cicero,  summalaus 
eloquentice,  amplijicare  rem  ornando. 

Amplification  is  the  great  means  of  rendering  argu- 


Argumentation".  235 

mcnt  telling  aiul  effective.  Instruct loii  exposes  an  obli- 
gation, a  dry  proof  establishes  it,  while  aniplitication  ex- 
plains its  nature,  its  grandeur  and  its  claims.  Auipliti- 
cation  acts  upon  a  proposition  like  rain  upon  the  seed, 
causing  it  to  grow  and  to  develop  itself.  Amplification 
renders  clear  and  intelligible  that  which  before  was 
perhaps  scarcely  perceptible.  It  throws  light  upon 
all  the  parts  of  a  discourse,  by  bringing  them  out  under 
different  aspects  and  different  points  of  view,  giving 
warmth  to  what  Avas  cold,  and  life  to  what  -was  dead. 
It  is  true  to  say  that  hy  amplification  arguments  are 
really  explained  and  rendered  intelligible,  that  they  are 
proved  and  made  to  penetrate  the  heart,  realizing  the 
truth  of  the  principle  advanced  1)}-  Quintillian  when 
he  affirms,  that  the  real  strength  of  the  orator  is  shown 
in  the  force  with  which  he  can  amplify  and  develop 
his  arguments. 

From  all  this  it  sufficiently^  follows,  how  much  the 
success  of  a  preacher  depends,  not  only  upon  his  pow- 
ers of  reasoning  correctly,  but  of  reasoning  strongl}* 
and  vigorously,  of  bringing  his  argimient  before  his 
hearers  not  only  in  its  truest,  l)ut  also  in  its  most  at- 
tractive light,  and  adorned  with  all  those  graces  which 
can  be  imparted  to  it  by  vivid  conception,  by  brilliant 
images  and  ideas,  and  by  chaste  and  polished  language. 

Let  the  young  preacher,  therefore,  aspire  to  reason 
closely  and  well ;  but  let  him  also  aspire  to  reason 
w^ith  eleo^ance  and  vigour.     Let  him  strive  his  utmost 


236  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

to  sain  such  a  command  of  laniruao'e  as  will  enable 
him  to  clothe  his  reasons  in  the  most  just  and  beauti- 
ful terms  ;  to  present  them  in  all  their  varied  aspects 
to  his  people  ;  to  shield  them  under  the  authority  of 
God's  word  ;  to  render  them  sensible  1>y  comparisons 
and  examples  ;  to  support  them  by  arguments  ad 
hominem,  as  his  experience  and  prudence  shall  suggest 
to  him.  Everything  which  serves  to  cultivate  his 
taste,  elevate  his  style,  and  i-ender  him  a  man  of  pure 
mind  and  of  deep  feelings,  will  sei"ve  to  cultivate  and 
develop  his  powers  of  amplification. 

Whilst,  however,  the  young  preacher  will  certainly 
av=!pire  to  this  faculty  of  amplification,  he  will  at  the 
same  time  be  discreet  in  its  employment.  In  the  fii-st 
place,  he  will  never  use  it  except  to  render  his  dis- 
coui'se  more  clear,  more  solid,  or  more  effective.  If 
his  idea  be  already  sufficiently  developed,  and  suffi- 
ciently intelligible  to  his  flock,  it  would  be  worse  than 
useless  to  spend  time  in  amplifying  it.  The  truth 
would  be  simply  smothered  under  a  superfluity  of 
expression,  and  obscurity  instead  of  greater  clearness 
would  be  the  result.  And,  hence  it  is,  that  a  great 
facility  of  speaking  is  often  a  very  fatal  gift. 

Secondly,  he  will  amplify,  not  by  merely  heaping 
together  empty  words  and  meaningless  phrases,  but  by 
multiplying  the  sense  *nd  adding  something  new  to 
what  he  has  already  said.  This  is  true  amplifica- 
tion, and  it  is  very  diflerent  from   that  which  con- 


Argumentatiojst.  237 

sists  in  repeating  the  same  idea  in  almost  synonymous 
terms. 

Thirdly,  he  will  amplily  in  such  a  manner  that  his 
discourse  may  continually  increase  in  force,  that,  as  he 
advances,  it  may  become  more  clear,  more  animated, 
more  strong  and  energetic. 

Fourthly,  he  will  do  well  to  follow  the  example  of 
]\Iassillon,  who  used  to  imagine  that  his  adversary  was 
present,  and  to  study  to  arrange  all  his  amplification 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  pursue  him  with  all  the  force 
of  his  refison  and  with  all  the  vehemence  of  his  zeal, 
until  he  was  completely  gained  and  won  to  the  side 
of  virtue. 

Premising  that  our  remarks  are  equally  applicable 
to  that  vei'bal  amplification  of  proofs  which  consists  in 
words,  as  to  that  real  amplification  which  is  founded 
either  in  climax,  in  the  amplification  of  comparisons 
and  examples,  or  in  the  consideration  of  the  circum- 
stances of  the  subject ;  and  begging  the  student  to 
bear  in  mind  the  principles  laid  down  at  page  80  when 
treating  of  "  The  Meditation  and  Conception  of  om- 
Subject,"  we  will  now  In-iefly  consider  the  leading 
sources  whence  the  preacher  is  to  draw,  as  well  his 
proofs  themselves,  as  his  ideas  and  his  matter  for  their 
amplification,  and  these  may  be  reduced  to  two — viz., 
the  loci  communes  of  preaching,  and  the  loci  communes 
of  rhetoric. 

By  the  loci  communes  of  preaching  we  uudei-stand 


238  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

the  Sacred  Scripture,  the  writings  of  the  Fathers,  and 
the  acts  of  Councils,  together  with  all  those  works  of 
scholastic  and  ascetic  theology  which  form  the  over- 
flowing fountain  whence  the  preacher  can  ahvays  draw, 
and  where  he  can  never  fail  to  find  ample  matter  with 
Avhich  to  instruct  and  to  move  on  all  those  g-reat  sub- 
jects  which  he  will  most  frequently  be  called  to  treat ; 
such  as  the  importance  of  salvation,  death,  judgment, 
heaven  and  hell,  the  love  of  God  and  the  passion  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  general  considerations  upon  the  l3ene- 
fits  of  God,  the  virtues  and  vices,  the  sacraments, 
prayer,  etc.,  etc.  Premising  too,  that  the  loci  com- 
munes of  preaching  correspond  to  the  "  Extrinsic 
Sources  or  Topics"  of  the  rhetorician,  and  the  loci 
communes  or  rhetoric  to  the  "  Intrinsic  Sources  or 
Topics,"  we  now  proceed  to  devote  a  few  words  to  the 
consideration  of  these  loci,  as  they  are  technically 
called. 

It  does  not  require  many  words  to  prove  that  the 
Holy  Scripture  must  always  be  the  preacher's  great 
resource,  the  storehouse  ever  full  of  the  most  useful 
and  sublime  matter  which  he  can  require.  Indeed, 
his  preaching  is  but  a  development  of  this  Divine  book, 
an  explanation  of  the  word  of  God.  Prcedica  verbum, 
says  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles.  Being,  as  he 
is,  the  ambassador  of  God  to  men,  it  is  fitting  that  the 
preacher  should  receive  from  that  God  Himself  the 
word  Avhicli  he  is  charged  to  carry  to  them  ;  a  messen- 


Argumentation.  339 

ger  from  heaven,  it  is  becoming  that  he  speak  in  its 
language.  This  word  of  God,  this  hmguage  of  heaven, 
*  is  contained  in  Holy  "Writ,  and  it  is  just  in  proportion 
as  the  preacher  makes  it  the  foundation  of  his  dis- 
course that  he  has  a  right  to  say  with  St.  Paul,  In  rue 
JoquUur  Christum.  .  .  Posuit  in  nobis  verbum  recon- 
ciliationis.     .     .     Deo  exiiortante  per  nos* 

The  word  of  man  is  at  best  but  dead,  and  incapable 
of  brino-ino-  foilh  fruit  unto  salvation  ;  but  the  word 
of  God  is  full  of  life,  containing  within  itself  a  hidden 
virtue  which  persuades  and  moves.  It  is,  as  the  Holy 
Ghost  expresses  it,  a  tire  which  inflames  the  most  insen- 
sible, a  hammer  which  rends  the  heart  that  is  as  hard 
as  the  very  rock,  a  sword  Avhich  penetrates  even  into 
the  most  hidden  parts  of  the  soul. 

Experience  ampl}-  proves  that  there  is  a  special  grace 
attached  to'  the  Avords  of  Holy  Writ,  and  that  the 
truths  which  the  preacher  builds  upon  some  text  of 
Scripture,  the  bearing  of  which  he  has  intimately  mas- 
tered and  powerfully  developed,  are  those  which  pro- 
duce the  greatest  impression  and  remain  longest  in  the 
minds  of  the  hearers. 

But,  if  Holy  Scripture  be  thus  useful  to  an  audience, 
how  much  more  precious  is  it  to  the  preacher  himself  ? 
The  apostle  tells  us  that  it  is  equally  useful  for  all  the 
ends  of  preaching,  whether  it  be  for  the  establishing 
of  do2::ma  or  the  explainino;  of  the  mysteries  of  the 

*2  Cor.  V.  19. 


340  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

Faith,  for  the  developing  of  moral  or  the  destruction 
of  vice.  Omnis  scriplura  divinitus  inspiriia,  uiilis  est 
ad  docendum,  ad  arguendwn,  ad  corrijpiendum,  ad 
erudiendum  in  fmttfta,  ut  perfectus  sit  honio  Dei,  ad 
omne  opus  bonum instructus* 

St.  Augustine  assures  us  tliat  the  preacher  will  excel 
in  the  ministry  of  the  word  in  proportion  as  he  is  a 
master  of  Holy  Scripture.  Sajnenter  dicet  tanto  magis 
vel  minus,  quanta  in  scrijjturis  Sanctis  magis  minusve 
profecit.\ 

In  eiFect,  the  word  of  God  imparts  to  the  language 
of  the  sacred  orator  an  authority  and  a  force  which  it 
can  never  derive  from  any  other  source.  As  man  natu- 
rally carries  in  his  heart,  together  witli  the  idea  of  the 
divinity,  a  deep  veneration  for  it,  so  the  consecrated 
style  of  the  holy  wiitings  imparts  to  a  discourse  a 
touching  majesty  which  inspires  us  with  virtuous  senti- 
ments, and  which  commands  our  respect  and  submis- 
sion all  the  more  effectually,  because  it  ol)liges  us  to 
love  the  truth  which  is  preached.  The  unction  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  flows  like  a  sweet  odour  upon  those  sacred 
writings.  The  love  of  God,  devotion  to  his  service, 
charity  towards  our  neighbour,  and  forgetfulness  of 
self;  in  a  word,  all  the  most  tender,  the  most  sublime, 
and  the  most  holy  affections  which  can  animate  the 
boul  of  man,  spring  from  them  like  a  fragrant  perfume, 
We  cannot  read  these  sacred  pages  without  feeling  a 

*  2  Tim.  iii.  16,  17.  t  De  Doct.  Chiist.,  lib.  iv,  5. 


Argumentatiok.  241 

deep  love  for  their  Author,  and  an  ardent  desire  of 
fulfilling  His  holy  precepts,  and  it  is  easy  to  recognize 
the  preacher  who  is  penetrated  with  their  spirit  by  the 
unction  which  flows  so  sweetly  from  his  lips. 

As  we  have  shown  in  a  former  part  of  this  work, 
whatever  subject  he  may  have  to  treat,  the  preacher 
Avho  is  Avell  versed  in  the  Scriptures  will  there  lind 
something  with  which  to  embellish  his  matter,  to 
render  it  more  touching  and  full  of  interest.  Not  only 
will  he  there  find  examples  suit^ible  to  every  condition 
and  state  of  life,  as  Joseph,  Ruth,  Job,  Jeremiah,  the 
Machabees,  Abraham,  David,  Saul,  etc.  ;  but  he  will 
also  discover  the  most  magnificent  figures  of  speech, 
and  the  highest  flights  which  oratory  has  ever  attained, 
strewn  over  its  pages  as  thickly  as  the  stars  in  the 
firmament  of  heaven.  These  beauties  of  the  Sacred 
Writings,  the.se  fruits  of  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  soar  immeasurabl}'  above  the  loftiest  eflbits  (jf 
l)rofane  orators  and  poets,  and  furnish  the  preacher 
who  knows  how  to  avail  himself  of  them,  with  an  in- 
exhaustible store  of  matter  by  the  aid  of  which  he  can, 
with  the  greatest  facility,  impart  life  and  warmth, 
energy  and  strength,  to  his  discourse. 

Hence,  we  see  that  the  Holy   Fathers  ha^'e  alwaj's 

regarded  the  Scripture  as  the  principal  soiuce  whence 

the  preacher  is  to  draw  matter  for  the  amplification  of 

his  arguments.     What  they  taught  in  this  regard  they 

first  practised  themselves.     They  made  these  Divine 
16 


242  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

Writings  the  subject  of  their  continual  study.  In  them 
they  found  the  substance  of  their  most  solid  instructions. 
They  developed  the  histories  which  are  contained  in 
the  Bible,  and  explained  its  difficulties.  They  applied 
its  lessons  to  all  the  duties  of  the  Christian  life,  and 
when  they  washed  to  treat  of  a  virtue  or  a  vice,  it  was 
thence  they  drew  their  most  powerful  motives  for  the 
practice  of  the  one  and  the  avoiding  of  the  other.  In 
the  Sacred  Scripture  Bourdaloue  finds  his  strongest 
arguments,  Bossuet  his  most  telling  comparisons  and 
his  most  lively  images,  Massillon  the  matter  for  his 
most  beautiful  and  striking  developments. 

In  one  word,  it  is  an  incontestable  truth,  that  the 
Sciipture  has  been  the  sacred  mine  w^hence  the  greatest 
writers  and  preachers  whom  the  world  has  seen  have 
derived  their  choicest  matter.  From  the  pi'ophets  they 
have  drawn  the  feeling  and  the  pathos,  and  from  the 
historical  books  the  edifying  histories  which  grace 
their  discourses.  In  the  Psalms  they  have  discovered 
the  most  lively  and  affecting  sentiments  of  piety,  in 
tlie  Book  of  Wisdom  the  wisest  rules  of  morality  and 
conduct,  and  in  the  Gospels  the  holiest  precepts  and 
counsels  of  perfection. 

To  the  same  source  must  the  young  j)reacher  also 
go  to  seek  his  purest  inspirations  and  his  loftiest  ideas. 
He  nmst  study  the  Scripture  from  beginning  to  end. 
as    St.    Augustine    ad\'ises ;    Tolas   legerit   nostasque 


Argumentation.  243 

habuerit^  etsi  non  intellectu^  tamen  lectione*  so  that  he 
iiuiy  not  miss  a  single  vein  of  this  priceless  and  inex- 
haustible mine.  He  must  study  it  with  a  profoundly 
religious  sentiment,  as  befits  the  Word  of  God,  with 
such  a  lively  faith  as  will  engrave  its  most  striking 
pjussag&s  indelibly  on  his  mind.  He  must  endeavour 
to  render  its  language  familiar  to  himself,  to  employ 
its  expressions  and  turns  of  thought  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, and  above  all,  to  make  it  the  matter  of  his 
meditation,  as  he  will  make  the  grace  to  understand 
and  to  appreciate  its  meaning  the  subject  of  his 
frequent  prayer. 

By  meditation  and  prayer  the  preacher  will  become 
filled  with  the  spirit  of  these  Sacred  Writings.  God 
will  speak  to  him  as  he  did  to  Ezechiel  of  old,  Comeile 
volumen  isiud,  et  vaclens  loquere  filiis  Israel.^  Apply- 
ing to  himself  the  beautiful  commentary  of  St.  Jerome 
on  this  text,  "  Devour  this  holy  book  by  assiduoiis 
study,  digest  it  by  deep  meditation,  cause  it  to  be- 
come part  of  your  veiy  substance,  before  you  presume 
to  preach  to  my  people,"  he  will  go  forth,  strong  in 
the  power  of  God's  word,  to  carry  the  glad  tidings  of 
salvation  to  those  who  sit  in  darkness  and  the  shadow 
of  death.  Then  shall  his  feet  be  l)eautiful  as  the  feet 
of  them  that  preach  the  gospel  of  peace,  of  them  that 
bring  glad  tidings  of  good  things.  Then  shall  li;s 
sound  go  forth  into  all  the  earth,  and  his  words  unto 
*  De  Doc.  Christ,  lib.  ii,  8.  t  Ezechl.  iii,  1. 


244  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

the  cMids  of  the  whole  world.  Then  shall  his  preach- 
ing be  blessed  indeed,  causing  men  to  call  npon  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  causing  them  to  be  saved. 
Then,  indeed,  as  men  listen  to  him  shall  they  recognise 
in  him  a  true  minister  of  God,  a  true  ambassador  of 
Christ,  and  confessing  with  their  mouths  the  Lord 
Jesus  and  believing  in  their  hearts,  they  shall  be  saved. 
Then,  indeed,  going  forth  in  the  name,  and  as  the 
chosen  minister  of  God,  with  the  words  of  his  com- 
mission ever  ready  on  his  lips,  ever  welling  up  from 
the  abmidance  of  his  heart,  he  shall  produce  much 
fruit — a  fruit  that  shall  remain  unto  everlasting  life,  a 
fruit  that  shall  cause  him,  who  has  instructed  others 
unto  justice,  to  shine  like  a  star  in  the  firmament  of 
God  for  all  eternity. 

After  the  study  of  Holy  Scripture  and  the  Fathers, 
the  young  preacher  must  find  the  most  copious  and 
most  appropriate  matter  for  his  amplification  in  the- 
ology, scholastic  and  ascetic.  An  exact  knowledge  of 
scholastic  theology  is  essential  to  every  preacher.  Pro- 
claiming the  truth  to  men  in  the  name  of  God,  not 
only  must  he  not  err,  but  he  must  be  quite  certain  that 
he  does  not  err,  and  that  he  exposes  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel  in  all  their  purity.  Without  an  exact  know- 
ledge of  theology  he  will  err,  or,  at  all  events,  l)e  uncer- 
tain in  his  teaching.  In  dogma,  he  will  confound  what 
is  of  faith  with  what  is  not.  He  will  be  neither  exact 
in  his  exposition  of  doctrine,  nor  solid  in  his  proofs, 


Argumentation.  245 

and  hence  he  will  lead  his  flock  iuto  eiTor,  or  disturb 
their  faith.  In  morals,  he  will  confound  counsels  with 
precepts  ;  that  which  is  of  perfection  with  that  which 
is  of  obligation  ;  that  which  under  certain  circum- 
stances may  be  tolerated,  with  that  which  semper  el 
pro  semper  must  be  rigorously  forbidden  ;  and  thus  he 
will,  through  his  laxity  or  his  undue  severity,  give  his 
people  false  consciences,  and  be  the  cause  of  innumera- 
ble sins  in  them. 

Not  less  essential  to  the  preacher  is  a  ready  and 
practical  knowledge  of  ascetic  theology,  or,  the  science 
of  sanctity.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  pastor  of  souls  to 
draw  his  people  from  sin  and  to  form  them  to  virtue; 
to  give  strength  to  the  feeble,  and  to  assist  the  just  to 
run  on  with  giant  strides  in  the  way  of  holy  perfec- 
tion. In  order  to  do  this  he  must  know  the  rules  by 
which  souls  are  governed,  by  which  they  break  off 
from  sinful  habits,  are  fashioned  to  virtue,  and  grad- 
ually elevated  to  the  highest  perfection.  He  must 
have  an  intimate  knowledge  of  those  conditions  which 
elevate  ordinaiy  actions  to  the  supernatural  order  ; 
and  he  must  be  prepared  to  point  out  the  road  by 
which  all,  uo  matter  what  their  state  or  condition  of 
life,  may  reach  the  mountain  of  perfection. 

Now,  all  this  supposes  a  very  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  spiritual  life  and  of  the  principles  by  which  it 
is  directed.  This  necessary  and  all-essential  knowledge 
can  only  be  acquired  by  the  practice  of  constant  medi- 


246  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

tation,  and  the  diligent  study  of  such  "works  as  treat 
of  this  matter.  Foremost  amongst  the  works  are  the 
admirable  Treatise  of  Rodriguez  on  the  practice  of 
Christian  and  Religious  Peifection,  the  Knowledge  and 
Love  of  Jesus  Christ  by  Pere  Saint-Jure,  the  love  of 
God  by  Saint  Francis  de  Sales,  the  Imitation  of  Christ, 
the  Spiritual  Combat,  the  True  Spouse  of  Christ  (for 
religious  persons  especially)  by  St.  Alphouse,  'the 
Catechism  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  etc.,  etc.  With 
the  practical  and  expedite  knoAvledge  which  he  will 
acquire  from  the  studious,  careful,  and  daily  read- 
ing, so  far  as  circumstances  may  permit,  of  these  or 
similar  works  ;  from  his  own  pious  meditations,  and 
his  own  growing  experience  as  he  advances  in  the  min- 
istry, the  pastor  of  souls  will  never  be  at  a  loss  either 
for  solid  and  effective  matter  for  his  sermons,  or  true, 
detinite,  and  solid  principles  by  which  to  guide  his 
flock  in  the  way  of  sidvation. 

As  the  loci  communes  of  preaching  assist  the  sacred 
orator  to  establish  and  develop  his  propositions  by  the 
aid  of  Scripture,  Tradition,  and  those  other  sources 
Avhich  are,  in  a  rhetorical  sense,  "  Extrinsic"  to  the 
subject  itself,  so  the  loci  communes  of  rhetoric  also 
help  to  conduct  the  preacher  to  his  end,  by  enabling 
him  to  develop  and  illustrate  that  subject  by  considera- 
tions drawn  from  its  very  nature,  and  from  those  quali- 
ties which  belong  "  Intrinsically"  to  it. 

The  loci  communes  of  rhetoric,  or,  in  other  words, 


AROrMEXTATIOX.  247 

"  Intrinsic  Topics"  or  "Proofs  from  lleason,"'  may  be 
reduced  to  Genus  and  Species.  Detinition,  Enumeration 
of  Parts,  Contraries,  Circumstances,  Cause  and  Effect, 
Comparisons,  including-  Examples  and  Parables.  Al- 
though these  "  Topics  ''  are  the  foundation  of  all  argu- 
ments drawn  from  reason,  and  are  the  fertile  sources  of 
powerful  and  varied  ampliiication,  Ave  shall,  inasmuch 
as  the  study  of  them  pertains  to  Rhetoric  strictly  so 
called,  content  ourselves  in  this  place  with  briefly 
glancing  at  them  ;  treating,  however,  at  a  little  more 
length,  of  Comparisons,  Circumstances,  Examples,  and 
Parables,  since  they  ai-e  of  the  most  importance  to  the 
preacher,  and  since  they  are  to  be  considered  under  a 
point  of  view  which  is  to  a  certain  extent  peculiar  to 
themselves. 

Genus  and  Species  are  correlative  idejis,  one  of  which 
cannot  be  understood  without  the  other.  The  preacher 
employs  this  "  Topic  "  as  the  foundation  of  an  argu- 
ment by  considering  what  his  subject  possesses  in  com- 
mon with  other  subjects,  and  what  it  has  which  is 
peculiar  to  itself — ex.  g. :  Does  not  every  virtue 
(genus)  merit  our  admiration  ?  How  is  it,  then,  that 
we  make  so  little  account  of  Christian  watchfulness 
{species)  which  can  alone  secure  youth  against  the 
dangers  of  temptation  ? 

Definition  supplies  us  with  the  foundation  of  argu- 
ment by  enabling  us  to  explain  the  .nature  of  an}' 
object  through  the  development  of  its  essential  quali- 


248  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

ties.  Definition  is  of  the  greatest  utility,  as  well  in 
enabling  us  to  give  the  clearest  idea  of  an  object,  as  in 
furnishing  us  with  matter  for  amplification.  The 
philosophical  definition  confines  itself  to  the  words 
which  are  strictly  necesKsary,  whilst  the  oratorical 
definition  develops  and  explains  the  nature  of  the 
object  in  a  stiiking  and  pleasing  manner — ex.  g. : 
The  philosopher  would  content  himself  Avith  describ- 
ing scandal,  as  "  any  unbecoming  word  or  deed  afford- 
ing to  another  the  occasion  of  spiritual  ruin  ;  "  whilst 
the  orator  would  not  merely  describe  the  absolute 
7i«^«re  of  .the  oftence,  but  the  puris/wient  due  for  it, 
and  the  reparation  which  it  I'cquires,  thus  obtaining 
most  probably  not  only  tJie  introduction  to,  but  the 
points  of,  his  discourse. 

Enumeration  of  Parts  consists  in  running  through 
and  detailing  the  various  parts  of  which  an  object  is 
composed,  in  order  to  fix  the  attention  upon  thos-e  par- 
ticulars which  are  best  adapted  to  establish  or  to  prove 
any  truth.  It  differs  from  the  definition  in  this  that 
it  enters  more  into  details — ex.  g. :  Massillon,  wishing 
to  pi'ove  that  there  are  comparatively  few  Christians 
who  merit  salvation  through  the  innocence  of  their 
lives,  runs  through  all  the  states,  conditions,  and  occu- 
pations of  men,  and  thence  deduces  his  conclusion. 

Contraries.  The  force  of  the  argument  which  is 
drawn  from  this  source  consists  in  destroying  the  effect 
of  one  idea  by  opposing  to  it  the  still  greater  weight 


Argumentation".  249 

of  its  coutraiy,  and  by  showing  that  the  two  cannot 
exist  at  the  one  time,  or  in  the  same  subject.  Massil- 
lon,  in  his  sermon  on  the  small  number  of  the  elect, 
tjius  deduces  an  argument  from  this  source  :  "  You 
admit,"  says  he,  "  that  it  is  necessary  to  renounce  the 
Avorld,  the  flesh,  the  devil  and  his  works  ;  and,  yet,  I 
perceive  in  your  whole  life  and  conduct  nothing  but 
attachment  to  the  world,  to  sensuality,  and  to  the  devil 
luid  his  works." 

By  Circumstances^  in  this  rhetorical  point  of  view, 
we  ma}'^  consider  the  place  in  which  any  action  oc- 
curred, the  persons  who  were  concerned  in  it  with  all 
those  qualities  which  might  distinguish  them,  together 
with  all  the  incidents  which  preceded,  accampanied,  or 
followed  it.  These  circumstances,  which  are  embod- 
ied in  the  well  known  verse,  Quis,  quid,  ubi,  quibus 
auxiliis,  cur,  quomodo,  quando,  may  be  employed  with 
great  propriety  and  vigour  in  the  consideration  of  the 
Passion  of  Christ,  and  other  kindred  subjects. 

Cause  and  Ff'ect.  Through  the  aid  of  this  "  Topic  " 
the  orator  develops  or  demonstrates  any  truth  or  fact 
l)y  an  exposition  of  causes,  primary  or  secondary, 
etjsential  or  accidental,  and  of  effects  which,  naturally 
or  essentially,  flow  from  them. 

Comparisons,  when  properly  employed,  are  of  the 
greatest  advantage  in  amplifying  and  developing  a 
discourse.  They  must  be  drawn  from  objects  well 
known  to  our  hearers,  otherwise,  as  is  evident,  they 


250  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

will  only  add  obscurity  instead  of  clearness  to  it.  The 
Holy  Scripture  is  our  best  guide  in  this  respect.  It  is 
full .  of  comparisous  ^vhich  are  taken  from  the  most 
ordinary  subjects,  as  the  human  body,  the  gnat,  the 
ant,  the  dog  which  returns  to  his  vomit,  the  tree,  the 
sowing  and  the  harvest,  the  vine,  the  shepherd,  the 
husbandman,  etc.  In  the  employment  of  comparisons, 
although  Ave  may  take  them  from  lowly  or  familiar 
objects,  we  must  never  forget  the  dignity  of  the  pulpit, 
or  descend  to  language  which  may  not  be  strictly  just 
and  becoming.  We  must  not  spin  them  out  too  much, 
or  press  them  too  far,  since  the  axiom,  Omnis  co)n- 
paratio  claudicat,  is  strictly  true.  Employed  with 
these  limitations,  and  under  these  conditions,  compari- 
sons impart  a  wonderful  clearness,  reality,  interest,  and 
force  to  a  discourse.  They  render  it  intelligible  to  the 
most  simple  and  unlearned,  full  of  interest  and  attrac- 
tion to  the  more  cultivated,  impart  the  clearest  light 
to  the  subject  which  we  treat,  and,  in  a  word,  bring  it 
home  to  the  audience. 

Examples,  when  judiciously  selected,  are  not  less 
useful  than  comparisons.  The  most  listless  audience 
will  brighten  up  when  the  preacher  commences  to 
illustrate  his  argument  by  examples ;  and,  as  they 
listen  to  him  more  willingly,  so  do  they  retain  more 
easily  the  argument  thus  enforced.  The  rules  which 
have  been  laid  down  for  comparisons  must  also  be 
followed  in  the  employment  of  examples. 


Argumentation'.  251 

The  Parable  is  a  comparison  which  wc  disgui.se 
under  the  form  of  a  historical  fiction  in  order  to  add 
greater  clearness  and  life  to  our  subject.  It  has  the 
same  eftect  as  the  example.  It  interests  and  reani- 
mates the  tlagging  attention  of  our  hearers,  by  bring- 
ing the  truth  which  we  wish  to  inculcate  in  the  moyt 
vivid  manner  before  them.  It  has  a  peculiar  charm 
for  children  and  simple  persons,  and  is  most  useful  in 
helping  them  to  understand  definitions  which  they 
frequently  find  it  difiicult  to  comprehend.  The  nse  of 
the  parable  comes  to  us  consecrated  by  the  example 
of  our  Divine  Lord,  who  often  employed  it  when 
preaching  to  the  lowly  and  the  ignorant ;  and  it  may 
well  be  doubted,  whether  the  most  finished  eiforts  of 
human  genius  and  oratory  have  ever  produced  such 
deep  and  lasting  effects  in  souls,  as  those  which  nave 
been  wrought  by  the  simple  recital  of  the  divine  para- 
bles of  the  Prodigal  Son,  the  Lost  Sheep,  etc. 

By  the  diligent  and  assiduous  working  of  these  loci; 
above  all  by  their  practical  application  to  the  peculiar 
intelligence,  position,  and  necessities  of  his  flock,  it  is 
impossible  that  the  preacher  can  ever  be  at  a  loss  for 
abundant  matter  with  which,  not  only  to  convince,  but 
to  please  and  to  move  his  flock.  Veritas pateal,  Veri- 
tas placeoi,  Veritas  moveat.  We  now  proceed  to  give 
some  examples  of  amplification  of  arguments. 


252  Body  op  the  Discourse, 

examples. 
Anvplification  hy  Cause  and  Effect — Massillon. 

In  his  semion  on  the  certainty  of  a  future  state 
Massillon  hiys  down  his  principle,  "That  all  does  not 
die  with  us,"  and  then  proceeds  to  establish  it  by  a 
consideration  of  the  ridiculous  and  impious  conse- 
quences which  necessarily  flow  from  the  doctrines  of 
the  unbeliever.  He  thus  powerfully  concludes  the  first 
portion  of  his  argumentation  : — 

"  If  all  die  with  us,  domestic  annals  and  the  train  of 
our  ancestors  are  only  a  collection  of  chimeras  ;  since 
we  have  no  forefathers,  and  shall  hifs'e  no  descendants, 
anxieties  for  a  name  and  posterity  are  therefore  ridicu- 
lous ;  the  honours  we  render  to  the  memory  of  illus- 
triofts  men,  a  childish  eiTor,  since  it  is  absurd  to  hon- 
our what  has  no  existence  ;  the  sacred  respect  we  pay 
to  the  habitations  of  tlie  dead,  a  vulgar  illusion  ;  the 
ashes  of  our  fathers  and  friends,  a  vile  dust  which  wt 
should  cast  to  the  winds  as  belonging  to  no  person  .; 
the  last  wishes  of  the  dj^ing,  so  sacred  amongst  even 
the  most  barbarous  nations,  the  last  sound  of  a  machine 
Avhich  crumbles  in  pieces,  and,  to  comprise  all  in  a 
word,  if  all  die  with  us,  the  laws  are  then  a  foolish  sub- 
jection ;  kings  aud  rulers,  phantoms  whom  the  imbe- 
cility of  the  people  has  exalted  ;  justice,  an  usurpation 
on  the  liberties  of  men  ;  the  law  of  marriage,  a  vain 
scruple  ;  modesty,  a  prejudice ;  honour  and  probitj', 


Argumentatiox.  253 

chimeras  ;  incests,  parricides,  and  the  blackest  villa- 
nies,  pastimes  of  nature,  and  names  which  the  policy 
of  legislators  has  invented.  .  .  .  The  uncertainty 
of  the  believer  is  then  suspicious  in  its  principle,  fool- 
ish in  its  proofs,  and  horril)le  in  its  consequences." 

Amplification  by  Comparison — Massillon 

Massillon  employs  comparisons,  drawn  from  Scrip- 
ture, with  extraordinary  felicity  and  grace.  Nor  is 
Bossuet  less  happy  in  their  employment,  sometimes 
comparing  the  journey  of  the  Christian  to  hea\'en  to 
that  of  the  Israelites  traversing  the  desert  to  the 
])romised  land,  sometimes  comparing  life  to  a  road 
which  terminates  in  heaven,  etc.  We  subjoin  several 
brief  examples. 

1.  On  the  Word  of  God.  "  We  may  appl}^  to  the 
greater  part  of  our  hearers  what  Joseph  addressed  to 
his  brethreu  when  disouising  himself  from  them.  It  is 
not  to  seek  for  corn  and  nourishment  that  you  have' 
come  hither.  You  have  come  as  spies  to  see  the  naked- 
ness of  the  laud.  Exploratores  estis;  ut  videatis  infir- 
rniora  terrce  venistis*  It  is  not  to  nourish  yourselves 
with  the  bread  of  the  word  that  you  have  come  to  lis- 
ten to  us  ;  it  is  that  you  may  discover  our  failings  and 
pass  your  censures  upon  them." 

2.  On  true  WorsJiip.  "  You  resemble  the  altar  of 
tabernacles  of  which  Holy  Scripture  makes  mention. 

*  Genes,  xliii,  9. 


354  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

It  was  covered  with  pure  gold,  the  outside  was  brilliant 
to  look  upon,  but  the  interior  was  empty :  I^on  erat 
aoUdiim,  seel  intus  vacuum*  says  the  Spirit  of  God. 
In  vain  do  you  immolate  those  strange  victims  which 
the  Lord  does  not  seek.  Your  passions  have  never 
been  immolated  before  the  sanctity  of  God.  You 
have  but  the  exterior  appearance  of  piety,  interiorly 
you  are  void  of  faith  and  of  works.     Intus  vacuumJ^ 

Amplification  by  Example — Massillon. 

Massillon  thus  beautifully  enforces  the  obligation  of 
fasting  by  examples :  "  God  does  not  measure  j^our 
infirmities  by  your  titles,  but  liy  His  law.  David  was 
a  prince  whom  the  delicacies  of  royalty  ought  surely 
to  have  softened  ;  read  in  his  divine  canticles,  the  his- 
tory of  his  austerities.  If  you  imagine  that  sex  should 
give  you  any  privilege,  I  will  show  you  that  Esther, 
in  the  midst  of  a  proud  court,  knew  how  to  afflict  her 
soul  by  fasting.  Judith,  so  distinguished  amongst  the 
children  of  Israel,  bewailed  the  death  of  her  spouse 
in  fastins:  and  sackcloth.  The  Paulas — the  Marcellas 
— those  illustrious  Eoman  matrons,  sprung  from  the 
rulei-s  of  the  world — Oh  !  what  examples  of  austerity 
have  they  not  left  to  succeeding  generations  ?" 
*  Exod.  xxxviii,  9. 


AKGUi^EXTATIO^'.  255 

Amjtlificalion  by  CirciimMam-et< — Dr.  JSfewman   and 
Archdeacon  O'Keefe. 

Dr.  Newman  truly  excels  in  his  wonderful  powers 
of  amplification,  and  the  student  could  take  no  better 
model  for  his  guidance  in  this  matter.  We  subjoin 
two  brief  examples. 

"  Look  at  that  poor  profligate  in  the  Gospel,  look 
at  Dives  ;  do  you  think  he  understood  that  his  wealth 
was  to  be  spent,  not  on  himself,  but  for  the  glory  of 
God  ? — yet  for  forgetting  this,  he  was  lost  for  ever  and 
ever.  I  Avill  tell  you  what  he  thought,  and  how  he 
A'iewed  things  :  — he  was  a  young  man,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded to  a  good  estate,  and  he  determined  to  enjoy 
himself.  It  did  not  strike  him  that  his  wealth  had 
any  other  use  than  that  of  enabling  him  to  take  his 
pleasure.  Lazarus  lay  at  his  gate  ;  he  might  have 
relieved  Lazarus  ;  that  was  God's  will :  but  he  man- 
aged to  put  conscience  aside,  and  he  persuaded  himself 
he  should  be  a  fool,  if  he  did  not  make  the  most  of 
this  world,  while  he  had  the  means.  So  he  resolved 
to  have  his  fill  of  pleasure  ;  and  feasting  was  to  his 
mind  the  principal  part  of  it.  '  He  fared  sumptu- 
ously every  day ;'  every  thing  belonging  to  him  was 
in  the  best  style,  as  men  speak  ;  his  house,  his  furniture, 
his  plate  of  silver  and  gold,  his  attendants,  his  estab- 
lishments. Every  thing  was  for  enjoyment,  and  for 
show  too ;  to  attract  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  to 
gain  the  applause  and  admiration  of  his  equals,  M'ho 


256  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

were  the  companions  of  his  sins.  These  companions 
were  doubtless  such  as  became  a  young  man  of  such 
pretensions  ;  they  were  fashionable  men  ;  a  collection 
of  refined,  high-bred,  haughty  youths,  eating,  not  glut- 
tonously, but  what  was  rare  and  costl}'" ;  delicate, 
exact,  ftistidious  in  their  taste,  from  their  very  habits 
of  indulgence  ;  not  eating  for  the  sake  of  eating,  or 
drinking  for  the  sake  of  drinking,  but  making  a  sort 
of  science  of  their  sensuality ;  sensual,  carnal,  as  iiesh 
and  blood  can  be,  with  eyes,  ears,  tongue,  steeped  in 
impin-ity,  every  thought,  look,  and  sense,  witnessing 
or  ministering  to  the  evil  one  who  ruled  them  ;  yet, 
M  ith  exquisite  correctness  of  idea  iuid  judgment,  laying 
down  rules  for  sinning  ; — heartless  and  selfish,  high, 
punctilious,  and  disdainful  in  their  outward  deport- 
ment, and  shrinking  from  Lazarus,  who  lay  at  the  gate 
as  an  eye-sore,  Avho  ought  for  the  sake  of  decency  to 
])e  put  out  of  the  way.  Dives  was  one  of  them,  and 
so  he  lived  his  short  span,  thinking  of  nothing,  loving 
nothing,  but  himself,  till  one  da}'  he  got  into  a  fatal 
quarrel  with  one  of  his  godless  associates,  or  he  caught 
some  bad  illness ;  and  then  he  lay  helpless  on  his  l)ed 
of  pain,  cursing  fortune  and  his  ph^'sician  that  he  was 
no  better,  and  impatient  that  he  was  thus  kept  from 
enjoying  his  youth,  trying  to  fancy  himself  mending 
Avheu  he  was  getting  worse,  and  disgusted  at  those  who 
would  not  throw  him  some  word  of  comfort  in  his 
suspense,  and  turning  more  resolutely  fi'om  his  Creator 


Argumentation.  357 

in  proportion  to  bis  suffering  : — and  then  at  last  liis 
da}^  came,  and  he  died,  and  (O  miserable  !)  was  buried 
in  hell.  And  so  ended  he  and  his  mission.'' — GoiTis 
Will  the  End  of  Life. 


"  It  is  an  old  story  and  a  familiar,  and  I  need  not 
go  through  it.  I  need  not  tell  you,  m\-  Ijrethren,  how 
suddenly  the  word  of  truth  came  to  yom-  ancestors  in 
this  island  and  subdued  them  to  its  gentle  rule  ;  how 
the  grace  of  God  fell  on  them,  and,  without  compul- 
sion, as  the  historian  tells  us,  the  multitude  became 
Christian  ;  how  when  all  was  tempestuous,  and  hope- 
less, and  dark,  Christ  like  a  vision  of  glory  came 
walking  to  them  on  the  waves  of  the  sea.  And  sud- 
denly there  was  a  great  calm  ;  a  change  came  over  tlie 
pagan  people  in  that  quarter  of  the  country  where  the 
gospel  was  first  preached  to  them  ;  and  from  thence 
the  blessed  influence  went  forth,  it  was  poured  out  over 
the  whole  land,  till  one  and  all,  the  Anglo-Saxon  peo- 
ple were  converted  by  it.  In  a  hundred  years  the 
work  was  done  ;  the  idols,  the  sacrifices,  the  mum- 
meries of  paganism  were  cast  av.^'iy  to  the  '  moles  and 
the  bats,'  and  the  pure  doctrine  and  heavenly  worship 
of  the  cross  were  found  in  their  stead.  The  fair  form 
of  Christianit}'  rose  up  and  grew  and  expanded  like  a 
beautiful  pageant  from  north  to  south  ;  it  was  majes- 
tic, it  was  solemn,  it  was  bright,  it  Avas  beautiful  and 
pleasant,  it  was  soothins;  to  the  griefs,  it  was  pleasant 


258  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

to  the  hopes  of  man  ;  it  was  at  once  a  teaching  and  a 
worship  ;  it  had  a  dogma,  a  mj^stery,  a  ritnal  of  its 
own  ;  it  had  an  hierarchical  form.  A  brotherhood 
of  holy  jDastors,  with  mitre  and  crosier,  and  hand  up- 
lifted, walked  forth  and  blessed  and  ruled  the  joyful 
people.  The  crucifix  headed  the  process! oii,  and 
simple  monks  were  there  with  hearts  in  praj^er,  and 
sweet  chants  resounded,  and  the  holy  Latin  tongue  was 
heard,  and  boys  came  forth  in  white,  swinging  censers 
and  the  fragrant  cloud  arose,  and  mass  was  sung,  and 
the  saints  were  invoked  ;  and  day  after  day,  and  in  the 
still  night,  and  over  the  woody  hills,  and  in  the  quiet 
plains,  as  constantly  as  sun  and  moon  and  stars  go  foiih 
in  heaven,  so  regular  and  solemn  was  the  stately  march 
of  blessed  services  on  earth,  high  festival,  and  gorgeous 
procession,  and  soothing  dirge,  and  passing  bell,  and 
tlie  familiar  evening  call  to  prayer ;  till  he  who  re- 
collected  the  old  pagan  time,  would  think  unreal  what 
he  beheld  and  heard,  and  conclude  he  did  but  see  a 
vision,  so  marvellously  was  heaven  let  down  upon  earth, 
so  triumph  an tl}'  were  chased  away  the  fiends  of  dark- 
ness to  their  prison  below." —  Christ  upon  the  Waters. 

Our  third  example  of  the  method  of  amplifying  by 
circumstances  is  taken  from  a  sermon  by  the  late  Arch- 
deacon O'Keeffe,  and  is  a  magnificent  specimen  of 
sacred  oratory. 

"  But  lamentable  as  are  the  consequences  in  this  life, 
the  full  extent  of  the  injury  cannot  be  ascertained,  until 


AEGUMEJiTTATIOK.  259 

the  light  of  futurity  begins  to  dawn.  Ascend  in  spirit 
to  the  many  mansions,  where  myriads  of  celestial  beings 
sit  enthroned  before  the  great  and  living  God.  Crowned 
with  surpassing  glory  and  bathed  in  eternal  bliss,  they 
are  filled  with  the  plenty  of  their  Father's  house  ;  they 
drink  of  the  torrent  of  delight,  which  springs  fast  by 
the  throne  of  the  eternal  ;  and  wrapt  in  the  contem- 
plation of  boundless  excellence,  they  enjoy  all  the 
felicity  of  which  our  nature  is  susceptible.  Of  this 
destined  happiness  the  giver  of  evil  example  deprivet, 
his  victim.  But  the  evil  is  not  confined  to  the  mere 
deprivation  of  happiness  ;  he  further  brings  down  on 
his  miserable  victim  a  horrible  damnation.  Think  on 
that  dark  prison  whose,  smoke  ascends  for  ever  and 
ever  ;  where  human  guilt  is  paying  to  rigorous  justice 
its  eternal  debt — where  miseiy  appears  in  every  shape 
that  can  appal  the  firmest — where  the  unsparing  hand 
of  Justice  is  lifted  up  for  ever.  Approach  and  speak 
to  the  victims  of  evil  example. — No  mortal  voice  could 
preach  like  those  hollow  tones  of  deep  despair  that 
load  the  accursed  atmosphere  of  '  helV  Ask  that 
young  man  what  direful  causes  concuiTed  to  plunge 
him  in  that  dread  abyss  ?  He  will  tell  you  of  the 
companions  of  his  youth,  who  drew  him  into  guilt,  au<l 
gave  his  young  mind  that  fatal  bias,«  which  led  to  this 
deep  damnation  ;  he  will  tell  you,  that  they  met  him  in 
the  morning  of  his  days,  when  life  Avas  young,  and  hope 
unbroken,  and  the  chalice  of  guilty  pleasure  untasted — 


260  Body  of  the  Discouese. 

when  youthful  confideuce  saw  in  every  face  a  friend, 
and  youthful  spirits  tinged  with  the  richest  colouring  of 
fancy  the  boundless  prospect  that  stretched  before  him. 
They  met  him,  whilst  his  body  was  yet  a  living  sacri- 
fice offered  to  his  God,  at  morning  and  evening  time, 
his  heart  a  throne  of  living  light,  where  Jesus  the  Hid- 
den God  of  the  Eucharist  loved  to  dwell,  and  his  spirit 
a  cloudless  heaven  chequered  by  no  dark  shade  of  vice 
or  crime.  They  met  him  in  an  evil  hour,  and  led  him 
to  those  scenes,  where  crowd  in  full  assemblage  all  the 
seductions  of  vice,  and  all  the  blandishments  that  can 
soften  and  seduce — where  the  wicked  combine,  and  the 
profligate  associate — where  bloated  intemperance  and 
sickly  dissipation  riot,  in  what  is  called  '  the  festive 
chair,'  pouring  out  from  wanton  and  profane  lips 
offences  against  decency,  and  bla.sphemy  against  God — 
where  rude  and  boisterous  merriment,  born  in  sin,  and 
In-ed  in  folly  and  ignorance,  ridicule  the  discipline  of 
virtue,  and  the  sanctity  of  religion.  There  did  he  learn 
by  degrees  to  join  in  the  senseless  cry  raised  against  all 
that  should  be  dear  to  man  in  time  and  eternity.  His 
course  I  recollect  was  a  short  one — he  brought  down 
ruin  on  his  circumstances,  infamy  on  his  character, 
decay  on  his  constitution,  auger  and  sorroAvand  shame 
on  the  grey  hair*  of  a  father,  destruction,  and,  I  may 
add,  final  perdition  on  himself.  He  was  hurried  away 
while  he  slept  in  imagined  security.  Before  the 
thought  of  eternity  seriously  took  possession  of  his 


Argumektation.  261 

mind,  he  found  himself  sinking  through  its  darkest 
depths,  mid  ere  he  had  time  to  eall  on  the  name  of  the 
living  God,  he  Avas  standing  in  horror  before  his  aM^ful 
tribunal.  There  is  no  bosom  so  locked  up  against  the 
entrance  of  humanity  as  not  to  feel  for  thy  sorrows, 
child  of  high  and  disappointed  hopes ! — no  heart  so 
hardened  as  not  to  mourn  with  me  over  the  stranded 
wreck  of  thy  virtues,  and  thy  happiness,  that  lies  so 
dark,  so  shattered,  and  so  lonely  on  the  shores  of  thy 
eternal  exile.  If  teai*s  could  ease  thy  torture,  all  who 
knew  thy  once  kind  and  compassionate  spirit  would 
shed  them  for  thee  ;  if  prayer  and  sacrifice  could  avail, 
the  Church  that  mouyiis  thee  lost,  would  make  her 
altars  blaze  before  her  God  with  the  burjit  ofFerin<>;s 
of  Calvary  ;  or,  if  life  could  purchase  thy  redemption, 
thy  agonies  would  terminate  speedily.  But  thou  art 
lost,  lost  to  thyself,  to  thy  friends,  to  thy  God  !  and 
lost  for  ever !  Stretched  on  thy  burning  bed,  thou  ait 
a  beacon  of  fire  to  warn  others  from  the  rocks,  where 
all  thy  hopes  are  shipwrecked,  to  make  them  fly  the 
associates  Avhose  converse  is  coiTuption, — whose  com- 
pany is  dishonour, — whose  example  is  death  and  final 
perdition." — On  Scandal. 


263  Body  of  the  Discoukse, 


SECTION  VII. 


REFUTATION. 


Before  leaving  this  bi-auch  of  our  su])ject  we  must 
briefly  glance  at  another  matter  which  is  essentially  con- 
nected with  it,  and  which  is  teclinically  known  as  Refu- 
tation. Frequently  it  is  not  sufficient  to  prove  our 
point  solidly  and  well.  We  must,  especially  when 
there  is  question  of  morality,  pursue  the  sinner  further 
still,  in  order  to  overthrow  those  objections  and  vain 
pretexts  behind  which  he  strives  to  shelter  himself,  and 
which  he  interposes  between  hiqiself  and  the  discharge 
of  his  duty. 

The  most  effective  way  of  doing  this  is  for  the 
preacher  to  enter,  as  it  were,  into  a  dialogue  with  the 
sinner,  and,  addressing  him  without  bitterness  or  any- 
thing which  can  give  offence,  to  take  up  his  objections 
and  show  their  unreasonableness  and  worthlessness. 
This  manner  of  refuting,  when  it  is  conducted  with 
tact  and  discernment,  is  not  oidy  full  of  interest  and 
attraction  to  an  audience,  but  is  extremely  useful. 

Refutation  is  generally  introduced  at  the  close  of  the 
]jositive  arguments,  but  it  ma}^  be  advanced  earlier, 
v/lien  we  deem  it  necessary  thus  to  sweep  a\vay  preju- 
dices which  threaten  to  inteifere  with  the  successful 
conduct  of  the  body  of  the  discourse.  It  may  also  be 
interlaced  amongst  the  various  proofs  as  they  occur, 


Eefutatiox.  2G3 

if  such  a  proceeding  be  deemed  more  judicious,  and 
this  of  course  can  only  be  decided  by  the  good  sense 
and  prudence  of  the  preacher. 

The  principal  thing  to  be  observed  in  this  matter  is, 
to  be  very  discreet  in  the  selection  of  the  objections 
which  we  attack,  and  to  attack  none  which  we  are  not 
able  to  refute  victoriously  and  unanswerabl}'.  These 
remarks  apply,  a  fortiori,  to  the  refutation  of  dogmati- 
cal objections  when  the  preacher  may  deem  it  his  dut}- 
to  bring  them  before  his  Hock,  or  when  the  necessitj' 
of  answering  them  may  be  thrust  upon  him  from 
quartei"s  which  the  interests  of  religion  forbid  him  to 
pass  by  in  silence.  Unless  in  these  exceptional  cases, 
the  less  he  disturbs  the  simple  faith  and  the  undoul)t- 
iug  belief  of  his  flock,  by  bringing  before  them  objec- 
tions of  which  perhaps  they'  then  hear  for  the  first 
time,  the  better.  If  we  advance  objections  without 
victoriously  refuting  them,  we  afford  the  sinner  or 
unbeliever  additional  pretexts  for  remaining  in  his  sin 
or  unbelief. 

Having  once  discreetly  selected  the  objection  which 
we  intend  to  refute,  it  is  well,  as  Ave  have  said,  to  put 
it  into  the  mouth  of  our  adversaiy,  advancing  it 
frankly  and  fairh^  expressing  it  precisely  as  we  believe 
it  to  be  in  the  simier's  mind,  so  that,  listening  to  our 
exposition  of  it,  he  may  say  to  himself,  "  That  is  ex- 
actly my  objection  ;   that  is  precisely  my  difficulty, 


264  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

and  I  should  wish  very  much  to  hear  how  the  preacher 
will  clear  it  up," 

Having  fairly  stated  the  objection,  there  are  of  course 
various  methods  of  refuting  it.  We  will  glance  briefly 
at  the  leading  ones,  and  give  some  illustrations  from 
Massillon  who  excels  in  this  matter.  Many  of  these 
illustrations  also  aftbrd  excellent  examples  of  the 
method  of  amplifying  by  comparison,  etc.,  etc. 

1.  We  may  refute  an  objection  by  showing  the 
falseness  of  the  principle  on  which  it  rests.  Massillon 
thus  refutes  the  false  principles  that  youth  is  the  season 
for  pleasure,  that  the  practice  of  virtue  belongs  to  old 
age  :— 

"  Who  has  assured  you  that  death  will  not  surprise 
you  in  the  midst  of  those  years  which  you  intend  to 
devote  to  the  world  and*  your  psissions  ?  Upon  what 
foundation,  I  ask  you,  do  you  promise  yom-self  that 
age  shall  change  your  heart,  and  incline  you  to  embrace 
a  new  life  ?  Did  age  change  the  heart  of  Solomon  ? 
No,  it  was  then  that  his  passions  became  most  violent, 
that  his  miserable  frailty  became  most  scandalous. 
Did  age  prepare  Saul  for  his  conversion  ?  No,  it  was 
then  tliat  to  his  other  errors  he  added  superstition,  im- 
piety, hardness  of  heart  and  despair.  It  may  be  that, 
as  you  advance  in  years,  you  shall  leave  off"  certain 
loose  manners,  because  the  disgust  which  follows  them 
shall  have  withdrawn  you  from  them,  but  you  will  not 
on  that  account  be  converted.     You  may  no  longer 


Refutation.  265 

live  in  debauchery,  but  you  will  not  therefore  repent. 
Your  heart  will  not  be  changed,  you  will  do  no  pen- 
ance. You  will  still  be  worldl}',  ambitious,  voluptu- 
ous, and  sensual.  And,  what  is  worst  of  all,  you  Avill 
live  tranquil  in  this  fearful  state.  When  you  are  no 
longer  able  to  give  yourselves  up  to  these  vices  you 
will  have  all  the  dispositions  to  do  so.  Years,  bad 
examples,  long  habit  of  the  world,  shall  have  served 
merely  to  harden  your  conscience,  to  put  indolence 
and  worldly  wisdom  in  the  place  of  the  passions,  to 
(obliterate  that  sense  of  religion  which  renders  the  soul 
fearful  and  timorous  in  the  days  of  youth.  You  will 
die  as  you  have  lived.     You  will  die  impenitent. 

.  .  .  .  But,  even  supposing  that  this  great 
misfoi-tune  should  not  fall  upon  you,  tell  me  is  not  the 
Lord  the  God  of  all  times  and  of  all  ages  ?  There  is 
not  one  of  our  days  which  does  not  belong  to  him, 
which  we  are  free  to  consecrate  to  the  world  and  to 
vanity.  Is  he  not  justly  jealous  of  the  first  fruits  of 
oin*  heart  and  of  our  life,  which  he  has  figured  by 
those  first  fruits  of  the  earth  which  he  has  com- 
manded to  be  oftered  to  him  ?  Why,  then,  do  you 
seek  to  rob  him  of  the  fairest  portioiis  of  your  years, 
that  you  may  consecrate  them  to  Satan  and  his  works  ? 
Is  your  life  too  long  to  be  wholly  devoted  to  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  who  has  bestowed  it  upon  j'ou,  and  who 
has  promised  you  an  eternal  one  ?  Is  your  youth  so 
precious  that  it  may  not  be  consecrated  to  the  Supreme 


266  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

Being,  and  rendered  worthy  of  its  eternal  inheritance  ? 
Are  you  to  reserve  for  him  only  the  remains  of  your 
life,  and  the  dregs  of  your  passions.  If  you  act  thus 
it  will  be  as  if  you  said  to  him,  '  Lord,  so  long  as  I 
shall  be  fit  for  the  world  and  its  passions  think  not 
that  I  shall  turn  towards  thee,  or  that  I  shall  seek 
thee.  So  long  as  the  world  shall  be  pleased  with  me, 
I  will  devote  myself  to  it.  When  it  liegins  to  neglect 
and  forsake  me,  then,  I  will  turn  towards  thee,  then  I 
"will  say  to  thee,  Lo,  I  am  here  !  I  pray  thee  accept 
that  heart  which  the  world  hath  rejected,  that  heart 
Avhich  finds  itself  under  the  necessity  of  reluctantly 
bestowing  itself  upon  thee,  that  heart  from  which  evcu 
now  thou  mayest  expect  nothing  but  perfect  indiffer- 
ence and  utter  neglect.'  Ah  !  unworthy  soul,  who 
thus  treatest  God  witli  such  mockery  and  insult,  clost 
thou  believe  that,  in  thy  necessity,  he  will  deign  to 
accept  the  homage  that  is  thus  forced  upon  him,  the 
homage  that  is  as  disgraceful  to  his  glory  as  it  is  hate- 
ful in  his  sight !  " 

After  this  powerful  refutation  of  these  false  princi- 
ples Massillon  confirms  what  he  has  said,  and  renders 
it  still  more  sensible,  by  the  following  beautiful  com- 
parison. 

"  In  ancient  days  the  prophet  Isaiah  thus  mocked 
those  who  Avorshipped  vain  idols.  You  take,  said  he 
to  them,  a  cedar  from  Lebanon  ;  you  devote  the  best 
and  most  handsome  portions  of  it  to  your  necessities, 


Kefutation.  367 

your  pleasures,  your  luxuiy,  and  the  embellishinent  of 
}our  palaces  ;  and  when  }'ou  have  no  other  use  for  the 
remnant,  you  carve  it  into  a  vain  idol  and  offer  up  to 
it  ridiculous  vows  and  homages.*  And  I,  in  my  turn, 
may  say  to  you,  you  consecrate  the  fairest  and  most 
flourishing  years  of  your  life  to  the  gratification  of 
}our  fancies  and  your  iniquitous  passions  ;  and  when 
you  know  not  w^hat  to  do  with  the  remainder,  when  it 
becomes  useless  to  the  Avorld  and  to  }our  pleasures, 
then,  you  make  an  idol  of  it.  You  make  it  serve  you 
for  religion.  You  form  to  yourself  of  it  a  false,  a 
superficial,  an  inanimate  virtue,  and  to  this  miserable 
idol  you  reluctantly  consecrate  the  wretched  remains 
of  your  passions  and  of  your  debaucheries :  Et  de 
rellquo  ejus,  idolum  faciam.  Behold  brethren,  what 
I,  in  my  turn  may  say  to  you.''  f 

2.  Sometimes  the  sinner  advances  his  objection 
under  the  form  of  a  principle,  which  has  a  two-fold 
meaning,  one  true  and  one  false.  We  refute  it  hy 
exposing  this  false  meaning.  Massillon  thus  exposes 
the  sophism  that  sin  is  expiated  by  the  mere  perform- 
ance of  works  of  mercy. 

"Works  of  mercy  aid  us  to  expiate  those  crimes  of 
Avhich  we  repent,  but  they  do  not  excuse  or  justify 
those  sins  which  we  continue  to  love.  Charity  is  the 
hand-maid  of  penance,  but  she  is  not  the  apologist  of 
luxury.  What  is  most  deplorable  in  this  matter  is, 
*  Isai.  xliv,  19.  t  Sermon  on  the  Delay  of  Conversion. 


268  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

that  when  the  movements  of  grace  begin  to  fill  our 
conscience  with  terror,  we  clothe  the  naked  and  feed 
the  hungry  with  whom  we  happen  to  meet,  and  thus 
calm  and  bring  false  peace  to  these  salutary  stings. 
These  are  the  signs  of  peace  with  which  we  soothe  our 
alarms.  This  is  the  false  and  deceptive  rainbow  of 
which  the  Prophet  speaks,  arcus  dolosus,  which,  in  the 
midst  of  those  clouds  and  those  salutary  tempests  which 
God  had  begun  to  excite  in  our  hearts,  diverts  our 
mind  from  the  image  of  danger.  We  are  lulled  to 
sleep  upon  these  sad  ruin^  of  religion,  as  if  they  could 
preserve  us  from  shipwreck  ;  and  those  very  Avorks  of 
charity  which  ought  to  be  the  price  of  our  salvation 
become  the  occasion  of  our  eternal  ruin." 

3.  We  may  refute,  by  denijing  at  once  the  principle 
and  the  conclusion  or  which  tJie  sinner  rests.  Massillon 
proceeds  in  this  manner  in  refuting  the  objection,  that 
it  is  necessary  to  distinguish  between  those  who  are  of 
the  world  and  those  who  are  not ;  and,  that  as  we  are 
of  the  world,  Ave  may  reasonably  dispense  ourselves 
IVom  that  strict  code  of  morality  which  is  sought  to  be 
imposed  upon  us. 

Refutation  of  the  p-inciple. — "  And  do  you  mean 
to  tell  me  that  there  is  to  be  one  Gospel  for  j^ou  and 
another  for  those  who  dwell  in  the  desert  ?  You  are 
of  the  world  ?  Aye,  and  so  Avas  the  sinful  Avoman 
mentioned  in  the  Gospel,  but  I  never  heard  that  she 
Avas  therefore  dispensed  from  doing  penance.     David 


Refutation.  269 

was  of  the  world,  but  I  have  never  heard  that  he  made 
this  an  excuse  for  nioderathig  the  severity  of  his  self- 
chastisement.  I  have  never  heard  that  the  first  Chris- 
tians were  accustomed  to  distinguish  between  those 
who  were  of  the  world  and  those  who  were  not.  To 
say  that  you  are  a  Christian  is  the  same  as  to  say  that 
}ou  are  not  of  the  Avorld.  .  .  .  You  are  of  the 
world,  my  brethren  ?  Yes,  luit  it  is  your  crime,  and 
you  will  make  it  your  excuse.  A  Christian  belongs 
no  longer  to  the  Avorld,  he  is  a  citizen  of  heaven." 

Refutation  of  the  consequence. — "  When  3'ou  affirm 
that  you  are  of  the  world  what  do  you  pretend  to  say  ? 
That  you  are  dispensed  from  doing  penance  ?  You 
speak  justly  if  it  be  true  that  the  world  is  the  abode 
of  innocence,  the  sanctuary  of  virtue,  the  faithfid  pro- 
tector of  modesty,  of  sanctity,  and  of  temperance. 
That  prayer  is  not  necessaiy  for  you  ?  I  agree  with 
you  if  you  can  assure  me  that  there  is  less  danger  in 
the  world  than  in  solitude,  that  there  are  fewer  snares 
to  be  feared,  that  seductions  are  less  frequent,  that 
relapses  are  more  rare,  and  that  less  grace  is  needed  in 
order  to  rise  again.  That  you  are  not  bound  to  with- 
draw from  the  amusements  of  the  world  ?  Again, 
I  aoree  with  you  if  it  be  true  that  its  amusements  are 
holy,  and  its  companies  innocent,  if  all  that  3'ou  hear 
and  see  in  it  elevate  your  heart  to  God,  nourish  your 
faith,  cultivate  your  piety,  and  draw  down  the  divine 
grace  upon  you.     That  j-ou  are  not  bound  to  take  such 


370  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

pains  in  order  to  save  your  souls  ?  You  say  what  is 
true,  and  yet  once  more  will  I  agree  with  you,  if  you 
will  show  me  that  you  have  no  passions  to  overcome, 
no  obstacles  to  surmount :  that  the  world  will  assist 
you  to  fulfil  those  sacred  obligations  which  the  Gospel 
has  imposed  upon  you.  O  man  !  such  is  your  terrible 
blindness,  you  reckon  your  very  miseries  as  your  highest 
privileges  ;  you  persuade  yourself  that  in  multiplying 
your  chains  you  are  but  increasing  your  liberty  ;  you 
are  making  your  very  dangers  the  rock  on  which  you 
are  building  your  false  and  delusive  hopes."* 

4.  The  most  brilliant  and  most  telling  mode  of 
refuting  is  that  in  which,  collecting  a  number  of  ob- 
jections into  one  bundle,  so  to  sjjeak,  we,  tvithouf  de- 
laying lipon  any  of  them,  snap  them  in  twain  one 
after  another  by  strong,  brief,  and  cutting  ansivers. 
These  brief,  but  brilliant  strokes  of  a  nervous  and 
vigorous  eloquence,  are  as  darts  discharged  into  the 
very  heart  of  our  adversary,  which,  raining  down  upon 
him  from  every  side,  leave  him  no  means  of  evasion, 
no  chance  of  escape.  Massillon  is  especially  happy 
in  this  method  of  refutation  : 

1st  Exam/pie,  proving  that  the  virtues  of  the  good 
icill  leave  the  wicked  without  any  excuse. 

"  What  Avill  you  answer  before  the  tribunal  of  Jesus 
Christ  ?  Will  you  affirm  that  you  have  but  follow^ed 
established  usages  ?     Did  the  just  who  are  standing  in 

*  Sermon  upon  the  Samaritan  woman. 


Refutation^.  271 

your  presence  conform  themselves  to  these  usages  ? 
Will  you  excuse  yourselves  on  the  ground  of  your 
illustrious  birth  ?  You  have  known  many  who,  with  a 
more  illustrious  name  than  yoiu-s,  have  sanctified  their 
state,  and  have  discovered  in  it  the  happy  secret  of 
securing  their  salvation.  Perchance,  you  will  allege 
the  vivacity  of  youth,  or  the  delicacy  of  sex?  You 
may  eveiy  day  behold  those  who  regard  these  things 
as  mere  dirt,  who  have  no  thought  but  for  heaven. 
Will  you  speak  of  the  dissipating  nature  of  your 
occupations  ?  How  many  have  you  seen  who,  engaged 
in  the  same  occupations,  have  nevertheless  saved  their 
souls.  Your  taste  for  pleasure  ?  The  desire  of  plea- 
sure reigns  in  the  hearts  of  all  men,  and  frequently 
it  is  strongest  in  those  Avho  serve  God  most  faithfully. 
Your  atilictions  ?  There  are  many  who  are  more 
miseral)le.  Your  prosperity  ?  There  are  many  who 
sanctify  themselves  in  abundance.  Your  health  ? 
You  may  behold  many  who,  fortified  by  divine  love 
and  grace,  serve  God  with  the  greatest  fidelity,  although 
suffering  from  the  most  infirm  health.* 

^nd  Example,  proving  that  the  discourse  of  the 
world  ought  not  to  turn  us  away  from  the  service  of 
God. 

"  What  can  the  w^orld  say  of  you  w^hich  ought  to 
give  you  such  alarm  ?  That  you  are  changed  ? 
O  happy  inconstancy,  Avhich  detaches  you  from  a  woi-ld 
*  Sermou  upon  the  jiidgmeut  of  the  good  and  the  wicked 


272  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

which  is  always  fleeting  and  inconstant,  in  order  to 
attach  you  to  those  unchangeable  goods  which  no  man 
can  take  from  you.  That  you  are  foolish  to  renounce 
pleasure  at  your  age  ?  O  holy  folly,  wiser  than  all  the 
wisdom  of  the  world,  since  in  renouncing  its  pleasures 
}'0u  renounce  nothing,  and  in  finding  God  you  find 
everything.  That  you  know  not  wdiat  you  are  doing  ? 
Thrice  useful  reproaches,  which  thus  become  pregnant 
with  instruction,  and  serve  to  animate  your  vigilance. 
That  you  only  leave  the  world  because  it  has  first  left 
you  ?  Precious  injustice,  which  thus  hinders  you  from 
receiving  a  vain  recompense  here.  That  ^'ou  aft'cct  a 
singularity  of  life  which  will  cover  you  with  the 
ridicule  of  tlie  world  ?  O  consoling  censure,  which 
declares  that  you  are  following  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
saints,  who  were  ever  covered  with  the  vain  ridicule  of 
tiie  world.  In  fine,  that  since  your  change  you  are  no 
longer  good  for  anything  ?  My  God,  and  are  we  use- 
less upon  the  face  of  the  earth  because  we  serve  you, 
love  j'ou,  and  discharge  our  duties  ;  because  we  edify, 
assist,  console,  and  pray  for  our  brethi'en.''* 

Such  are  some  of  the  principal  methods  of  refuting 
the  vain  pretexts  and  the  futile  objections  of  the  sin- 
ner. It  only  remains  after  this  overthrow  of  his 
forces — this  destruction  of  the  ramparts  behind  which 
he  seeks  to  hide  himself  from  God  and  his  duty,  to 
raise  him  up  again,  to  show  him  what  he  is  bound  to 
*  Sermou  upou  humau  respect. 


Special  Applicatiok.  273 

do  in  order  to  siive  his  soul,  and  to  encourage  him  to 
imdertake  this  duty  like  a  fervent  and  detenniued 
Christian. 


SECTION  VIIL 

SPECIAL  APPLICATION  OF  THE  SUBJECT  TO  ALL  CLASSES 
OF  OUR  HEARERS;  OR,  AMPLIFICATION  OF  ARGUMENTS 
DRAWN  FROM  PRACTICAL  CONCLUSIONS  111  Ve  mOVali 
EXTREMES  TO  BE  AVOIDED. 

Having  sufficiently  explained  the  great  Christian 
truth  which  forms  the  subject  of  our  discourse  ;  hav- 
ing supported  it  by  arguments  discreetly  chosen,  skil- 
fully arranged,  and  powerfully  amplified  ;  having, 
when  necessary,  refuted  the  objections  which  may  l^ 
advanced  against  it  ;  it  only  remains  to  deduce  those 
practical  conclusions  which  necessarily  flow  from  it, 
and  appl}'  them  to  the  special  wants  and  necessities  of 
our  hearers,  since  we  only  preach  that  they  may  be- 
come better  men. 

In  order  to  do  this  successfully  we  must  know  our 
people  well  ;  ^\e  must  embrace  within  thescoj^e  of  our 
sermon,  as  far  as  is  practical,  the  necessities  of  all  those 
who  are  listening  to  us  ;  and  we  must  apply  ourselves 
with  special  earnestness  and  care  to  combat  the  domi- 
nant passions  and  the  leading  abuses  and  disorders 
which  may  reign  in  our  parish.     In  order  to  ])e  able 

to  apply  our  discourse  with  practical  fruit  to  the  souls 
18 


274  Body  of  the  Discourse. 

of  our  hearers,  it  is  evident  that  we  must  first  know 
them  well.  If  we  happen  to  bo  preaching  in  a  strange 
place,  we  must  endeavour  to  acquire  this  necessary  in- 
formation from  the  pastor  of  it.  In  our  own  parish  we 
shall,  of  course,  acquire  an  intimate  knowledge  of  our 
flock,  of  their  virtues  as  well  as  of  their  failings,  from 
our  intercourse  with  them,  from  our  obseiTation  of  their 
lives  and  habits,  and  from  those  other  sources  which 
experience  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  will  daily  open 
to  us.  "Without  such  a  knowledge  of  our  flock  it  is 
certain  that,  whatever  other  qualities  it  may  possess,  a 
sermon  can  never  be  practical. 

We  must  labour  to  embrace,  as  far  as  possible,  with  • 
in  the  scope  of  our  discourse  the  necessities  of  all  our 
hearers.  If  a  preacher  merely  apply  his  healing  reme- 
dies to  one  class  of  his  audience,  his  discourse  will  neces- 
sarily be  without  either  utility  or  interest  to  the  rest, 
whilst  all  have  an  equal  right  to  be  nourished  with  the 
Divine  word.  His  flock  are  like  the  sick  men  watch- 
ing at  the  pool  of  Bethsaida.  He  is  the  angel  sent  by 
God  to  cure  them.  He  is  to  give  light  to  the  blind, 
and  strength  and  vigour  to  the  lame.  He  is  to  raise 
up  those  who  have  fallen,  and  he  is  to  make  sure  the 
feet  of  those  who  are  yet  standing. 

His  charity  must  therefore  spread  itself  out  to  the 
wants  of  all ;  to  those  who  sin  through  weakness  or 
ignorance ;  to  those  who  are  involved  in  evil  habits 
but  who  are  not  as  yet  thoroughly  hardened  ;  to  those 


Special  Applicatiojs-.  275 

who  have  steeped  themselves  in  sin  till  their  eyes  arc 
blinded  and  their  ears  closed  to  all  the  lights  and 
inspirations  of  the  Almighty  ;  those  who  in  sad  sober 
truth  are  living  in  the  very  state  of  damnation  without 
one  thought  or  one  desire  of  freeino^  themselves  from 
their  chains.  With  no  less  earnestness  will  his  charity 
embrace  those  who  are  walkins:  with  lovins^  care  and 
fidelity  in  the  way  of  God's  Commandments,  those  who 
may  have  but  just  begun,  those  who  may  have  made 
some  progi-ess,  those  who  may  have  already  advanced 
a  great  distance  on  the  path  of  holy  perfection. 

In  order  to  meet  these  various  wants  the  preacher 
will,  if  he  be  treating  of  any  vice,  attack  with  all  the 
power  at  his  command  those  sins  which  are  the  sad 
children  of  this  fruitful  mother.  He  will  speak  with 
compassion  of  those  who  fall  through  weakness  or  the 
force  of  temptation.  He  will  raise  his  voice  in  solemn 
warning  against  the  perversity  of  those  who  are  hard- 
ening their  hearts  and  blinding  their  eyes  by  their  in- 
dulgence of  evil  habits.  He  will  thunder  God's  judg- 
ments, cum  omni  imperio^  into  the  soul  of  the  repro- 
bate and  hardened  sinner,  that,  if  he  will  not  allow 
himself  to  be  converted  to  God  by  the  pleadings  of 
His  mercy,  he  may  at  least  be  brought  to  a  sense  of 
his  duty  by  the  recollection  of  those  fearful  punish- 
ments which  He  has  prepared  for  unrelenting  enemies. 
The  preacher  will  not  fail  either  to  speak  with  repro- 
bation (rf  those  lighter  failings,  those  minor  sins,  by 


276  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

the  commission  of  which  the  man  is  led  on,  little  by 
little,  to  put  himself  in  open  enmity  with  God.  In 
fine,  he  will  prescribe  the  practical  means  of  avoiding 
or  of  correcting  this  vice,  indicating  successively  those 
which  are  of  necessity  and  those  which  are  only  of 
counsel  and  of  perfection. 

If,  on  the  contrary,  he  be  treating  of  some  particu- 
lar virtue,  he  will  endeavour  to  inspire  his  hearers 
with  a  great  horror  of  the  sins  which  are  contrary  to 
it,  and  he  will  propose  the  ordinary  as  well  as  the 
highest  degrees  in  which  it  may  be  practised.  In 
this  way  he  will  minister  to  the  wants  of  all.  All 
classes  of  sinners,  as  well  as  of  the  just,  will  receive 
that  instruction  which  is  most  suited  to  them,  and  there 
will  be  no  one  present  who  may  not  derive  some  profit 
from  this  discourse. 

With  a  view  to  the  profit  of  all  those  who  may 
compose  his  audience,  no  matter  what  their  state  of 
life  may  be,  he  will  not  fail  frequently  to  impress 
upon  them  the  general  principle  that,  of  all  duties 
those  which  pertain  to  our  own  peculiar  state  are  the 
most  essential,  and  that  the  ordinary  means  of  per- 
fection and  sanctification  are  placed  in  the  faithful  and 
perfect  discharge  of  those  duties.  He  will  render  this 
still  more  practical  by  examples,  by  dwelling  upon 
the  obligations  of  tiie  rich  and  the  poor,  of  masters 
and  of  seiTants,  of  parents  and  of  children,  etc.,  etc. ; 
taking   care,   however,  not  to  decry  any  profession 


Special  Applicatioit.  27T 

which  is  honourable  in  itself,  nor  to  dwell  upon  the 
obligations  of  any  state  to  which  coiTelative  duties 
may  be  attached,  without  insisting  equally  upon  the 
faithful  discharsfe  of  those  duties. 

As  a  necessary  consequence  of  laboui-ing  to  adapt 
his  discoui-se  to  the  special  wants  of  his  hearei-s,  the 
preacher  will  apply  himself  most  assiduously  to  combat 
those  dominant  passions  and  those  leading  disorders 
which  may  reign  in  his  parish.  These  dominant  vices 
are  the  grand  obstacles  to  salvation.  These  are  the 
evils  which  cry  aloud  most  urgently  for  remedy,  and 
which,  unless  they  be  removed,  will  be  the  most  fright- 
ful source  of  death  to  many  souls. 

Whilst,  however,  the  fervent  pastor  will  inveigh 
with  all  the  powera  of  his  soul,  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  in  omni  patientia  et  doctrina,  against  these 
dominant  vices,  he  will  be  careful  never  to  assume  a  tone 
of  bitter  acerbity  and  angry  reproach.  True  zeal  knows 
no  such  language  as  this.  It  is  sweet  and  without  gall, 
tender  and  compassionate  towards  the  sinner  who  has 
fallen.  No  man  is  ever  gained  to  God  by  angiy  re- 
proach, that  is,  by  a  reproach,  clothed  in  angry  words. 
At  the  best,  a  reproach  is  always  a  bitter  medicine.  It 
is  sometimes  necessary  to  administer  it  to  the  sinner, 
but  let  the  preacher  ever  temper  its  bitterness  by  the 
considerate  and  gentle  language  in  which  he  will 
clothe  it.  Let  him,  to  use  a  common  simile,  gild  the 
pill,  mindful  of  the  characteristic  which  Holy  Writ 


278  Body  of  the  Discoubse. 

applies  to  true  zeal  against  siu,  Irasdmini  et  nolite 
peccare* 

He  will  also  be  careful  not  to  represent  any  dis- 
ordei-s  which  may  prevail  in  his  parish  as  really  worse 
than  they  are.  Exaggeration  is  always  mischievous 
and  always  to  be  avoided.  It  is  doubly  mischievous 
when  employed  in  the  pulpit.  He  will  use  an  extreme 
caution  and  reserve  when  speaking  of  certain  vices, 
so  as  to  say  nothing  which  may  in  the  least  sully  the 
most  sensitive  or  the  most  delicate  conscience.  Whilst 
he  denounces  the  vices  of  his  people,  he  will  not  fail 
at  the  same  time  to  indicate  the  remedies  for  these 
disorders. 

Eemedies,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark,  are^  of 
two  km  ds,  general  and  particular.  By  general  remedies 
we  understand  prayer,  meditation,  the  holy  use  of  the 
sacraments,  spiritual  reading,  fasting,  mortification,  and 
alms-deeds.  Particular  remedies  vary  according  to  the 
faults  and  dispositions  of  the  sinner,  and  they  ought  to 
be  pointed  out  by  the  preacher  with  such  exact  pre- 
cision that  all  may  see  quite  clearly  what  they  ought 
to  do. 

As  he  has  shown  them  in  detail  what  they  are,  so 
the  preacher  ought  to  show  them  in  detail  what  they 
ought  to  be,  the  practices  and  the  means  by  which  they 
may  correct  themselves,  the  obligations  which  they  have 
to  fulfil,  and  the  new  life  on  which  they  are  bound  to 
Psl.  iv.  5. 


Special  AppLicATioiir.  '  2T9 

enter.  The  experience  and  the  Avatchful  care  of  the 
zealous  pa^jtor  will  furnish  him  with  more  practical  and 
eificacious  means  of  accomplishing  these  great,  useful, 
aud  holy  ends,  than  any  we  could  hope  to  suggest  or 
pi^escribe.  Let  him  only  be  in  earnest,  let  him  only 
be  inflamed  with  a  great  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God  and 
for  the  salvation  of  the  precious  souls  whom  his  Master 
has  entrusted  to  his  care  to  be  prepared  for  heaven, 
and  the  means — ^sweet,  plentiful,  and  efficacious — of 
accomplishing  his  purpose  will  never  be  wanting  to 
him.  Let  him  not  fail,  too,  to  impress  upon  his  peo- 
ple that  the  onlj'  way  of  avoiding  sin  is  by  sedulously 
avoiding  its  occasions,  that  the  sole  means  of  pei>3ever- 
ing  in  good  resolutions  is  through  the  grace  of  God 
which  is  alone  showered  down  in  plentiful  profusion 
upon  the  souls  of  those  who  ask  it  in  tervent,  humble, 
and  continual  prayer. 


To  sum  up,  then,  and  briefly  recapitulate  the  leading 
principles  which  have  been  thrown  out  in  considering 
this  part  of  our  matter.  Having  selected  his  subject 
in  view  of  the  special  dispositions,  capacity,  and  neces- 
sities of  his  audience  ;  having  collected  his  materials 
and  arranged  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  secure  the 
essential  quality  of  unity  for  his  discourse  ;  having,  in 
his  Exordium,  introduced  that  subject  in  a  becoming 
manner,  and,  by  means  of  his  Division,  marked  out  its 


280  Body  of  the  Discoukse. 

leading  members  or  pai-ts  ;  the  preacher  proceeds  to 
establish  the  great  tinith  which  he.  has  laid  down  as 
the  basis  of  his  sermon.  In  the  lirst  place  he  imparts 
to  his  audience  that  amount  of  clear,  solid,  and  prac- 
tical instruction  on  the  matter  in  hand  which  his  ex- 
perience points  out  to  him  as  necessary  or  useful  for 
them.  He  then  proceeds  to  confirm  his  propositions 
by  solid  proofs.  He  may  prove  each  point  of  his  dis- 
course from  Holy  Scripture,  the  Holy  Fathers,  the 
Motives  of  Faith,  and  from  reason.  He  may  amplify 
each  source  of  proof  in  the  manner  described,  and, 
more  especially,  by  the  use  of  comparisons,  examples, 
etc.,  drawn  either  from  Sacred  or  Profane  Histoiy,  or 
the  ordinary  circumstances  of  life.  When  necessary 
or  useful,  he  will  refute  the  objections  which  may  be 
advanced  against  either  his  proposition  or  his  proofs  ; 
and,  finally,  since  the  whole  aim  and  object  of  his 
preaching  is  to  render  his  hearers  better  men,  he  will 
make  a  practical  application  of  the  subject  to  their 
special  necessities  and  wants.  This  application  may 
be  either  reserved  until  the  conclusion  of  the  argumen- 
tation, or  it  may  be  introduced  at  the  close  of  each 
point  of  the  diecourse,  or  it  may  even  be  brought 
forward  at  any  part  of  the  instructive  or  argumentative 
portions  of  his  sermon  where  the  preacher  deems  it 
peculiarly  appropriate  or  telling.  The  plan  of  intro- 
ducing it  during  the  progress  of  his  discourse,  at  least 
at  the  conclusion  of  each  point,  is  probably  better  as 


Special  Application".  281 

an  ordinary  rule,  than  that  of  reserving  it  until  the 
conclusion  of  the  entire  argumentation,  since  the 
preacher  thus  rendei-s  his  sennon  practically  interest- 
ing and  useful. 

By  the  careful,  diligent,  and  practical  application 
of  these  principles,  the  preacher  can  scarcely  fail  to 
secure  a  becoming  and  eftective  development  of,  what 
we  may  call,  the  logical  element  of  his  discoui*se : 
Vefi'ilas  pateat. 


1 

1 

I  HI  i\'A&tl  oJxsiiil* 


ill'.,:    h  ;-.iiJ    iJ'i), 

. ,  ■  /  /  I : !  ■ ,  I  i   : . .  . 

iio  to  Mioif^-Kq  mi)  < 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  PATHETIC  PART.    PERSUASIOlf— APPEAL  TO  THE 
PASSIONS.     PERORATION 

SECTION  I. 

PERSUASION ITS    NATURE    AND    NECESSITY. 

AVING  studied — if  not  thoroughly,  at  least 
sufficiently — the  manner  of  introducing  our 
subject,  the  method  of  instructing,  and  the 
rules  according  to  which  our  argumentation 
is  to  be  conducted,  strengthened,  and  adorned,  it  now 
remains  to  tum  our  attention  to  the  Peroration,  or, 
Conclusion  of  a  Sermon.  Before  doing  so,  however, 
we  must,  as  briefly  as  the  matter  will  permit,  consider 
and  lay  down  some  general  principles  on  what  is,  be- 
yond all  doubt,  the  most  important  portion  of  our 
subject,  and  that  which  will  have  the  greatest  and 
most  direct  influence  upon  the  preacher's  success.  We 
mean  the  pathetic  part  of  the  discourse,  or,  what  is 
techincally  called,  the  art  of  persuasion,  through  an 
appeal  to  the  passions  of  our  hearers.  We  beg  the 
}'oung  preacher's  careful  attention,  whilst  we  endeav- 
our, as  concisely  as  possible,  to  explain  the  essential 


Persuasion.  388* 

and  most  important  part  which  persuasion,  or,  the  art 
of  influencing  the  will  holds  in  eveiy  true  and  suc- 
cessful sermon. 

Up  to  this  point  our  explanations  have  been  princi- 
pally directed  to  show  the  preacher  how  he  is  to  ex- 
plain and  to  prove  the  Christian  doctrine ;  in  other 
words,  how  he  is  to  enlighten  the  undei-standing,  bring 
truth  before  the  intellect,  and  convince  his  hearers. 
But,  as  a  sermon  is  of  its  nature  a  pei-suasive  oration, 
and  as  its  ultimate  object  is,  not  to  discuss  some  abstract 
point  or  some  metaphysical  truth,  not  to  convince  our 
hearers  that  they  are  bound  to  become  better  men,  but 
to  persuade  them  to  do  so,  it  is  clear  that  our  work  is 
onl}'^  partly  done  when  we  have  treated  of  instruction 
and  argumentation. 

It  is  one  thing  to  convince  a  man  that  he  ought  to 
change  his  life  ;  it  is  another  to  pei"suadc  him  to  make 
this  change.  This  latter,  this  persuasion,  is  the  ulti- 
mate aim  of  all  preaching,  the  end  which  the  preacher 
necessarily  proposes  to  himself.  All  his  instruction, 
all  his  argumentation,  all  his  previous  efforts,  are  sim- 
ply intended  to  lay  the  foundation  on  which  to  build 
persuasion.  It  is  well,  it  is  necessary,  to  triumph  over 
the  intellect  by  conviction,  but  what  result  has  the 
Christian  preacher  really  attained  if  he  have  not  also 
moved  the  will,  gained  the  heart — in  one  word,  per- 
suaded his  hearers. 

There  are  few  men  who  do  not  believe  in  the  exis- 


284  The  Pathetic  Part. 

tence  of  hell,  and  yet  how  many  are  there  who  live 
as  if  they  did  not  believe  this  truth.  And  what  is  the 
reason  of  this  ?  Is  it  from  want  of  instruction,  or  from 
defect  of  solid  proof  ?  Most  certainly  not.  But  it  is 
because,  although  the  intellect  is  convinced,  the  heart 
is  not  moved.  It  is  because  there  are  many  preachei-s 
■who  know  how  to  prove  the  Christian  doctrine  and  to 
convince  the  intellect,  but  compai*atively  few  who  know 
how  to  move  the  heart,  and  persuade  men  to  practise 
what  is  preached.  There  are  many  who  are  able  to 
point  out  to  the  sinner  the  road  which  he  ought  to 
take,  few  who  are  able  efficaciously  to  pei"suade  him 
to  enter  on  it. 

Many  preachers  take  great  pains  to  instruct  and  to 
prove,  in  other  words,  to  speak  to  the  intellect  of  their 
hearei-s  ;  but,  mifortunately,  it  is  not  the  intellect  which 
is  sick,  but  the  heart  w4iich  is  the  victim  of  evil  pas- 
sions, and  the  heart  is  not  to  be  reached  by  cold  and 
logical  reasoning.  It  must  be  touched,  it  must  be 
moved,  it  must  be  persuaded  to  embrace  and  put  in 
practice  that  truth  which  the  intellect  has  presented 
to  it.  Through  the  influence,  and  by  the  aid,  of  those 
passions  by  which  it  is  so  deeply  moved  and  governed, 
it  must  be  gained  to  the  side  of  virtue.  The  sinner 
must  be  brought  not  only  to  believe,  but  to  practise. 

To  attain  this  great  end  is  the  aim  and  object  of 
persuasion,  or,  the  art  of  moving  the  will,  and  persua- 
sion is  the  only  way  of  attaining  it.    There  is  naturally 


Persuasion.  285 

in  the  human  heart  but  little  taste  for  virtue,  and  we 
only  efficaciously  move  our  hearers  to  embrace  it,  when 
we  speak  to  them  in  those  wann  and  earnest  tones 
which  alone  can  act  upon  and  influence  the  will. 
Hence  it  is  that  St.  Francis  of  Sales  declares  that  we 
have  done  but  little  in  bringing  conviction  to  the  in- 
tellect, unless  we  also  move  the  will ;  that  we  have 
gained  but  a  very  poor  result  if  our  audience  depart 
from  our  sermon,  convinced  indeed  that  they  ought  to 
be  virtuous,  but  without  any  intention  of  becoming 
so.  A  discource  which  leaves  our  hearers  cold  and 
insensible,  which  does  not  move  the  most  hidden  depths 
of  their  souls,  and  inspire  them  with  strong,  fervid,  and 
efficacious  resolutions,  may  sparkle  with  gems  of  rhe- 
toric, and  be  redolent  of  the  beauties  of  composition  ; 
but,  most  assuredly,  it  will  be  neither  a  good  nor  a  use- 
ful sermon,  since  it  wants  the  essential  condition  laid 
down  by  St.  Augustine,  Flectendus  auditor,  ut  movea- 
tur  ad  agendum.  Ideo  victm^ce  est  Jlectere,  quia  fieri 
potest,  ut  doceatur  et  delectetur,  et  non  assentiatur. 
Quid  autem  ilia  duo  prodei'unty  si  desit  hoc  tertium  ?* 
And  we  have  the  testimony  of  St.  Bernard  to  the  same 
eflTect.  Audio  libeniur,  qui  non  sibi  plausum,  sed  mihi 
planctum  moveat.f 

On  the  other  hand,  if  a  preacher  succeed  in  moving 
his  hearers,  if  he  succeed  in  acting  upon  their  heai-ts, 
all  is  gained.      He  is  certain  to  please,  since  he  who 

*  De  Doct.  Christ,  lib.  iv.,  cap.  12.  t  Serin.  9.  in  Cant. 


286  The  Pathetic  Part. 

moves  always  pleases,  and  the  more  he  succeeds  in 
moving  the  moi-e  will  he  please.  His  arguments  will 
produce  their  full  efl'ect,  for  the  intellect  will  no  longer 
seek  to  withold  its  assent  from  the  truth  when  the 
heart  has  been  already  gained,  and  thus  the  victory  is 
assured. 

The  strength,  then,  of  the  Christian  orator  lies  much 
more  in  the  power  of  moving,  than  in  reasoning.  Since 
evil  passions  have  their  stronghold  in  the  heart,  it  is 
by  gaining  their  hearts  that  he  influences  and  turns 
men  to  his  purpose,  rather  than  by  convincing  their 
intellect,  although  this  too  is  necessary.  Hence,  the 
great  and  wonderful  eft'ects  produced  by  some  sermons, 
which,  although  in  no  wise  remarkable  for  composi- 
tion, are  delivered  with  that  unction,  that  real  earnest- 
ness, that  binning  zeal,  which,  springing  from  a  heart 
that  is  all  on  fire  with  a  desire  for  God's  gloiy  and  the 
honour  of  His  holy  name,  acts  with  such  irresistible 
force  on  the  souls  of  men. 

Feeling  is  the  soul  of  eloquence,  and  it  is  pathos, 
the  expression  of  that  feeling,  which  is  the  moving 
power  of  the  sinner's  conversion,  of  those  restitutions, 
those  reconciliations,  and  those  other  triumphs  over  the 
unreg^enerate  heart  of  man  which  we  are  allowed  to 
win,  by  God's  permission  and  for  the  glory  of  His  holy 
name,  through  the  ministry  of  the  pulpit.  It  is  thi'ough 
this  pathos  of  thought,  of  word,  and  of  expression,  that 
we  gain  our  noblest  victories  over  the  heails  of  our 


Persuasion.  38T 

hearei-s  and  lead  theni  whither  we  will.  It  is  in  this 
that  the  main  secret  of  our  success  is  placed.  The 
discourse  which  does  not  apply  itself  to  the  heart, 
which  does  not  move  and  gain  it,  is  necessarily  void 
of  the  greatest  and  most  noble  results  which  should 
attend  eveiy  sermon. 

Moreover,  although  Christianity  is  a  religion  of  rea- 
son, it  is  still  more  a  religion  of  love  and  of  sentiment; 
and,  hence,  that  unction  which  springs  from  the  heart 
of  him  who  speaks,  and  which  goes  straight  to  the 
heart  of  him  who  is  addressed,  ought  surely  to  be  the 
essential  characteristic,  the  very  soul  of  Christian  elo- 
quence. How  can  the  Christian  preacher  proclaim 
the  great  truths  of  which  he  is  the  guardian,  ad  salvan- 
dos  hmnines,  coldly  and  without  feeling  ?  When  he 
does  so  he  forgets  what  is  due  to  God  whose  cause  he 
pleads,  and  w^hose  glory  he  defends  ;  what  is  due  to  his 
brethren,  whose  dearest  interests,  for  time  and  eternity 
ai'e  at  stake  ;  what  is  due  to  himself,  because  the  truths 
which  he  preaches  regard  himself,  equally  with  his 
hearers,  since,  if  they  be  lost  through  any  fault  of  his, 
he  must  render  an  account  to  God  for  their  immortal 
souls.  What  greater  contradiction  can  be  conceived, 
what  sight  more  strange  and  unaccountable,  than  that 
of  a  Christian  preacher  who  can  speak  of  the  most 
tremendous  judgments  of  God  without  one  tone  of 
feeling  in  his  voice,  without  one  sign  of  emotion  on 
his  countenance,  as  calmly  and  as  coldly  as  if  he  did 


288  The  Pathetic  Part. 

not  believe  them,  as  if  he  were  merely  treating  some 
abstract  metaphysical  truth,  instead  of  one  which  is 
practical  beyond  conception,  one  whose  certainty  is 
above  all  argument,  one  which  is  more  nearly  and 
more  intimately  connected  with  his  own  eternal  in- 
terests and  those  of  his  hearers,  than  his  soul  is  con- 
nected with  his  body ! 

If  all  the  mastei-s  of  profane  rhetoric  insist  upon  the 
pathetic  as  the  most  essential  part  of  a  discourse,  how 
much  more  true  must  this  be  where  there  is  question 
of  Christian  preaching,  when  the  orator  very  frequently 
has  to  cany  his  point  against  all  the  influences  of 
corrupt  nature,  of  an  intellect  blinded  by  passion,  and 
a  heart  hardened  by  sin.  A  man  may  be  a  great 
philosopher  without  the  faculty  of  persuading  and  of 
influencing  the  will.  He  may  be  an  accomplished 
lecturer,  although  he  may  not  know  how  to  strike  one 
chord  of  the  human  heart,  or  touch  one  string  of  the 
human  soul.  But,  if  it  be  true  that  persuasion  is  the 
ultimate  end  of  all  our  preaching,  if  it  be  true  that  a 
sermon  is  essentially  a  pei-suasive  oration,  then,  it  fol- 
lows, that  unless  he  possess  this  geat  faculty,  whatever 
else  a  man  may  be,  he  will  never  be  a  preacher.  To 
move  is  the  special  gift  of  the  apostle  and  the  man  of 
God  :  verUas  moveat. 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  389 

SECTION  11. 

APPEAL  TO  THE  PASSIONS. 

If,  then,  persuasion  be  the  end  of  every  sermon,  and 
if  the  pathetic,  or  the  faculty  of  moving,  hold  such  a 
leading  position  in  its  composition,  it  becomes  both 
interestinoj  and  useful  to  investigate  how  this  end  is  to 
be  obtained,  and  how  those  movements  which  produce 
it  are  to  be  directed.  Let  us  recur  to  our  definition. 
Pei"suasion,  as  we  have  defined  it,  is  the  art  of  influen- 
cing the  Avill  by  ui3pealing  to  the  passions.  Alwaj'^s 
supposing  a  due  foundation  of  clear  instruction  and 
solid  proof,  persuasion,  therefore,  is  the  fruit  of  a 
successful  appeal  to,  and  moving  of,  the  passions  of  the 
human  heart. 

The  passions  are  those  affections  or  movements  of 

the  soul  Avhich  are  awakened  at  tlie  sight  of  some 

object,  real  or  imaginar}^,  and  by  which  the  will  is 

drawn  to  embrace  that  which  is,  or  which  it  believes 

to  be  a  good,  and  to  fly  from  that  Avhich  it  deems  to 

be  an  evil.     The  passions  Avere  implanted  in  the  soul. 

to  aid  man  in  the  attainment  of  that  good   which  is 

consonant  to  his  nature,  and  the  avoidina:  of  that  evil 

which  is  prejudicial  to  him.    It  is  unnecessary  to  prove 

that  the  passions  in  themselves  are  good,  since  they 

were  given  to  man  by  his  Creator.     It  is  only  in  their 

abuse  and  pervei-sion  that  they  become  evil.     Neither 
19 


390  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

is  it  necessary  to  devote  time  or  space  to  the  refutation 
of  the  absurd  difficulty  which  is  sometimes  raised,  viz., 
that  appeals  to  the  passions  are  an  unfair  mode  of 
influencing  our  hearers  ;  since  it  is  at  once  evident 
that  there  can  be  no  persuasion  without  such  an  appeal. 
Truth  is  the  object  of  the  intellect,  good  that  of  the 
will.  Man  never  places  an  act  except  for  the  attain- 
ment of  something  which  really  is,  or,  which  he,  hie 
et  nunc,  rightly  or  wrongly,  conceives  to  be  a  good  ; 
something  which  will  conduce  to  his  happiness,  true 
or  false ;  to  the  perfection  of  his  nature,  and  the 
development  of  his  being.  To  make  me  believe,  it  is 
enough  to  show  me  the  truth.  To  make  me  act,  you 
must  show  me  that  the  action  will  answer  some  end. 

Now,  nothing  can  be  an  end  to  me  which  does  not 
gratify  some  passion  or  aflTection  in  my  nature  ;  and, 
therefore,  in  order  to  induce  me  to  attain  that  end,  you 
must  necessarily  appeal  to  the  passion  or  affection 
which  is  to  be  gratified  by  its  attainment.  You  tell 
me  that  such  a  thing  is  for  my  honour,  and  thus  you 
appeal  to  my  pride  ;  or,  that  it  is  for  my  interest,  thus 
appealing  to  my  self-love,  and  so  of  the  rest.* 

Hence,  so  far  from  an  appeal  to  the  passions  being 
an  unfair  method  of  persuasion,  it  is  evident  that  there 
is  no  pereuasion  without  it. 

Since,  then,  the  heart  of  man  is  only  efficaciously 
moved  by  appealing  to  those  j^assions  by  which  it  is 

*  Campbell's  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric. 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  891 

governed,  it  follows  that  the  preacher  who  disdains  to 
call  them  to  his  aid  neglects  one  of  his  most  powerful  , 
means  of  success.  K  man  had  not  revolted  against  his 
Creator  there  would  be  no  need  to  appeal  to  his  pas- 
sions, since  they  would,  instinctively  and  of  their  own 
accord,  tend  to  that  real  good  which  is  their  natural 
object ;  but,  inasmuch  as  man  has  perverted  the  pas- 
sions which  are  good  in  themselves,  and  as  these  patr 
sious  are  the  source  of  all  sin  and  of  all  rebellion 
against  God,  it  follows  that  he,  omnibus  pensalis,  is  the 
best  preacher  who  best  knows  how,  not  only  directly 
to  influence  and  act  upon  those  pure  and  well-ordered 
affections  or  passions  which  may  exist  in  the  hearts  of 
his  hearers,  but  also  to  oppose  to  the  evil  passions 
which  lead  man  from  his  end  those  contrary  impulses 
and  affections  by  which  alone  he  can  be  led  back  again 
into  the  path  of  religion  and  duty.  Affectus pravi^ 
says  Louis  of  Grenada,  velut  clavus  davo,  contrariis 
affectibus  pellendi  sunt. 

Persuasion  has  this  advantage  over  simple  convic- 
tion, writes  Fenelon,  that  it  not  only  enables  us  to  see 
the  truth,  but  paints  that  truth  in  pleasing  colours, 
and  moves  men  efficaciously  in  its  favour.  Thus,  true 
eloquence  consists  in  employing  not  only  solid  argu- 
ment, but  the  means  of  interesting  our  hearer,  and  of 
awaking  the  strongest  passions  of  his  soul  in  our  favour. 
It  inspires  him  with  indignation  against  ingratitude, 
with  horror  against  cruelty.    It  fills  him  with  compas- 


293  The  Pathetic  Part. 

sion  for  miseiy,  and  awakens  in  his  heart  a  true  love 
for  virtue,  and  so  of  the  other  affections.  Hence, 
according  to  the  judgment  of  St.  Francis  of  Sales,  St. 
Alphonsus  Liguori,  Louis  of  Grenada,  and  many  other 
eminent  writers,  a  preacher  is  eloquent  in  proportion 
as  he  is  able  to  move  the  passions,  and  thus  influence 
the  wills  of  his  hearers ;  in  proportion  as  he  knows 
how  to  oppose  one  passion  to  another  ;  to  eradicate 
the  disorderly  affections  which  reign  in  the  heart  by 
exciting  acts  of  the  contrary  virtue. 

The  pert'ection  of  art,  according  to  Bellefroid,  con- 
sists in  leading  man  back  to  virtue  through  the  agency 
of  that  very  passion  by  the  abuse  of  which  he  has  been 
seduced  and  led  astray.  For  example,  you  know  that 
it  is  shame  which  so  often  closes  the  mouth  of  the  sin- 
ner in  the  sacred  tribunal.  You  oppose  shame  to  shame. 
You  place  before  his  eyes  the  last  judgment  with  all 
its  terroi"s  and  you  show  him  how  awful  and  how  irre- 
parable is  the  ignominy  which  awaits  him  at  that  dread 
hour,  unless  he  overcome  the  false  shame  which  now 
renders  him  unfaithful  to  his  duty.  Again,  you  awaken 
in  the  hearts  of  those  who  are  kept  from  their  duty 
through  fear  of  men,  a  much  gi-eater  and  more  legiti- 
mate fear  —  viz.,  that  of  being  disowned  by  Jesus 
Christ  before  the  throne  of  His  Father,  even  as  they, 
through  human  respect,  have  disowned  Him  before 
men. 

Having  thus  established  the  general  necessity  of  the 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  293 

appeal  to  the  piissions  in  order  to  persuade,  it  may  not 
be  out  of  place  to  enquire  soinewliat  more  precisely 
into  the  nature  of  this  appeal,  and  the  manner  in  which 
it  is  to  be  conducted. 

And,  firstly,  we  may  remark  that  the  appeal  to  the 
passions  is  sometimes  direct,  but  that,  more  frequently, 
it  is  indirecl. 

It  is  said  to  be  direct  when  the  preacher,  by  the 
mere  force  of  his  own  vehement  passion,  that  passion 
which  finds  expression  m  his  burning  words,  in  his 
flashing  eye,  in  his  quivering  voice,  in  his  earnest  ges- 
ture, acts  immediately  and  directly  upon  the  hearts  of 
his  hearers,  and  inspires  them  with  those  same  senti- 
ments and  feelings  with  which  he  himself  is  so  deeply 
penetrated,  and  which  he  expresses  with  such  power 
and  strength.  Thus  a  preacher  who,  thoroughly  moved 
and  excited  himself,  should,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  dis- 
course on  mortal  sin,  give  utterance  to  a  warm  and 
ardent  act  of  contrition,  would  act  directly  upon  his 
hearers,  and  infallibly  excite  the  same  sentiments  of 
soiTow  in  their  souls. 

This  direct  action  of  the  preacher  upon  the  soul  of 
his  hearer  is  the  same  whether  it  be  the  result  of  those 
stronger  passions  Avhich  are  technically  known  as  the 
vehement  pathetic,  or  of  those  more  gentle  and  tender 
emotions  which  the  ancients  named  affectus  mites, 
lenes,  compositi,  and  which  we  are  wont  to  designate, 
unction.      As  it  has  its  source  in  that  deep  and  burn- 


294  The  Pathetic  Part. 

ing  feeling  or  passion  of  the  preacher  which  merely 
struggles  to  find  same  inadequate  expression  in  his 
broken  words,  it  is  plain  that  it  is  governed  by  no 
merely  technical  rules  or  restraints.  That  same  feel- 
ing which  inspires  it  will  regulate  its  utterances. 

Although,  most  probably,  we  have  all  felt  at  one 
time  or  another  this  direct  action  of  some  holy  and 
zealous  preacher  upon  our  souls,  it  is  hard  to  describe 
it,  or  to  say  in  what  it  consists.  It  is  the  mysterious 
and  sympathetic  action  of  one  heart,  truly  and  deeply 
moved,  upon  the  heart  of  another,  which  is  thus  influ- 
enced and  governed  by  it.  It  is  the  fruit  of  tnie  and 
genuine  feeling  alone,  and  that  same  feeling  which  in- 
spires it  will  ever  restrain  it  within  due  bounds,  pre- 
vent it  from  running  to  excess,  or  assuming  any  pro- 
portion that  is  extravagant  or  misplaced. 

No  man  has  such  a  keen  perception  of  what  is 
■becoming  as  the  man  of  exquisite  sensibility  and  of 
deep  feeling  ;  and  hence,  whilst  we  venture  to  assert 
that  this  poorer  of  acting  upon  the  souls  of  our  fellow- 
men,  and  of  inspiring  them  with  these  ardent  senti- 
meiits  and  emotions  with  which  we  ourselves  are 
animated,  is  one  of  the  most  precious  gifts  which  a 
preacher  can  possess,  we  can  lay  down  no  technical 
rules»by  which  he  may  attain  it. 

"We  can  only  eshort  and  persuade  him  to  foster  and 
cultivate  that  sensibility  of  soul  which  instinctively 
appreciates  whatever  is  true,  beautiful,  and  sublime ; 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  29ft 

to  remember  that  he  has  been  made  only  a  little  lower 
than  the  augels,  and  that  the  more  pure  and  the  more 
detached  he  Injcomes  fix)m  the  things  of  the  world,  the 
more  closely  he  will  approach  in  his  resemblance  to  these 
pure  spirits  ;  to  be  above  all  things  a  man  of  prayer, 
a  man  of  such  intimate  union.with  God  as  to  be  able, 
in  the  midst  of  all  his  distracting  occupations  to  look 
continually  upon  his  Master's  face ;  a  man  who,  hav- 
ing been  called  by  God  to  be  an  apostle,  will  never 
lose  sight  either  of  his  glorious  prerogatives  or  his 
terrible  i-esponsibilities,  but  with  that  zeal  for  God's 
glory  with  which  the  true  apostle  is  eaten  up,  and 
that  charity  for  his  brethren  with  which,  like  St.  Paul, 
he  will  even  ask  to  become  anathema  for  them,  will 
ever  labour  to  be  about  his  Father's  business,  will  ever 
burn  with  the  desire  of  doingthat  business  more  truly, 
more  earnestly,  and  more  efficaciously. 

Let  the  student  foster  to  the  utmost  those  precious 
qualities,  whether  of  nature  or  of  grace,  which  he  may 
have  received,  sensibility  of  soul,  depth  of  feeling,  great 
love  of  God,  and  zeal  for  the  glory  of  His  holy  name. 
Let  him  strive  to  acquii'e,  in  ever-growing  fulness,  those 
qualities  of  mind  and  heart  which  mark  the  perfect 
gentleman  ;  ever  remembering  that  tlie  perfect  Chris- 
tian priest,  the  man  well-disciplined  and  self-possessed, 
the  man  of  meekness  of  heart  and  of  purity  of  life, 
the  man  forgetful  of  self  but  keenly  considerate  of 
othei-s,  is  the  most  perfect  gentleman  in  the  world,  in 


396  The  Pathetic  Part. 

the  true  sense  of  the  word.  In  proportion  as  he  fostei-s, 
cultivates,  and  develops  these  precious  qualities,  will 
he  acquire  the  power  of  acting  upon,  and  of  moving, 
the  hearts  of  his  fellow-men  ;  and  these  are  the  only 
means  which  we  can  suggest  to  him  for  the  acquiring 
of  this  sublime  and  precious  faculty. 

More  commonly,  as  may  be  easily  conceived,  the 
appeal  to  the  passions  is  indirect.  There  are  compara- 
tively few  men  who  possess  the  precious  faculty  of 
acting,  directly  and  immediately,  without  preamble  or 
preparation,  solely  through  the  force  and  intensity  of 
their  own  strong  feeling,  upon  the  hearts  of  their  fellow- 
men.  The  appeal  to  the  passions  is  said  to  be  indirect, 
when  the  speaker,  instead  of  proposing  to  himself  to 
move  his  audience  by  the  mere  force  and  strength  of 
his  own  feeling  on  the  subject,  brings  before  their 
minds,  without  any  direct  display  of  his  personal  senti- 
ments, in  vigorous,  earnest,  and  nei-vous  language, 
those  scenes,  circumstances,  or  occurrences,  which  he 
deems  fitting  and  calculated  to  awaken  in  the  hearts  of 
his  hearers  the  passions  which  he  seeks  to  excite.  We 
say  that  such  an  appeal  as  this  is  indirect,  because,  the 
primary  object  of  the  speaker  is  to  paint  in  words  the 
scenes  or  circumstances,  from  the  consideration  of 
which  those  feelings  which  he  desires  to  excite,  natu- 
rally but  indirectly,  arise. 

In  this  place,  and  before  proceeding  with  the  further 
consideration  of  this  subject,  it  may  be  useful  to  call 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  297 

the  student's  attention  to  a  matter  which  has  an  essen- 
tial connection  with  this  indirect  appeal  to  the  passions, 
and  which  Dr.  Whately  treats  very  fully  and  develops 
very  ingeniously. 

"  A  curious  fact,"  he  says,  "  is  forced  upon  the  atten- 
tion of  eveiy  one  who  htis  seriously  reflected  upon  the 
operations  of  his  own  mind — viz.,  that  our  Feelings 
and  Sentiments  are  not  under  the  immediate  influence 
of  the  will,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Intellectual  Faculties. 
A  man  may,  by  a  direct  act  of  his  will,  set  himself  to 
calculate,  to  reason,  etc.,  just  as  he  does  to  move  any  of 
his  limbs ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  a  direct  volition 
to  hope,  to  fear,  to  love  or  hate,  to  feel  devotion,  is 
often  quite  useless  and  ineflectual."*  Blair  well  remarks 
that  this  matter  is  not  sufficiently  attended  to  by 
preachei-s,  who,  if  they  have  a  point  in  their  sermon 
to  show  how  much  we  are  bound  to  be  grateful  to  God, 
or  to  be  compassionate  to  the  poor,  are  apt  to  imagine 
this  to  be  a  pathetic  part  ;  confounding  the  propriety 
of  being  moved,  with  the  fact  of  a  person  being  or 
not  being  actually  under  the  influence  of  the  passion. 
In  other  words,  many  men  mistake  for  a  Ifeeling  of 
gratitude  their  voluntary  reflections  on  the  subject,  and 
their  conviction  that  the  case  is  one  which  calls  for 
gratitude,  etc.  The  fact  that  I  am  bound  to  be  deeply 
grateful  to  God  for  all  the  graces  he  has  bestowed 

*  "Whately's  Rhetoric. 


298  The  Pathetic  Part. 

upon  me,  is  very  different  from  a  real  feeling  of  grati- 
tude.* 

If,  then,  our  feelings  be  not  under  the  direct  influ- 
ence of  the  will,  how,  asks  Whately,  is  the  difficulty 
to  be  surmounted,  how  are  they  to  be  reached  ?  And, 
he  answers,  that  good  sense  suggests  the  remedy.  It 
is  in  vain  to  form  a  will  to  quicken  or  lower  the  cir- 
culation of  the  blood,  but,  we  may,  by  a  voluntary  act, 
swallow  a  medicine  which  will  have  that  effect.  In 
like  manner,  although  we  cannot,  by  a  direct  volition, 
excite  or  allay  any  sentiment  or  emotion,  we  may,  by 
a  voluntary  act,  fill  the  understanding  with  such 
thoughts  as  shall  indirectly  operate  upon  the  Feelings 
or  Passions.  And,  precisely  in  the  same  manner  in 
which  we  thus  indirectly  excite  any  passion  in  our- 
selves, are  we  to  proceed  when  we  desire  to  make  the 
indirect  appeal  to  the  passions  of  an  audience. 

Hence,  the  conclusion  that,  inasmuch  as  the  Feelings, 
Sentiments,  etc.,  are  not  under  the  immediate  control 
of  the  will,  the  appeal  to  the  passions  is,  as  an  ordinary 
rule,  indirect ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  no  sentiment  or 
feeling  is  excited  by  thinking  about  it,  or  attending 
to  it,  but,  by  thinking  about  and  attending  to  such 
objects  as  are  calculated  to  awaken  it. 

To  every  emotion  or  passion  Nature  has  adapted  a 
set  of  corresponding  objects,  and  the  emotion  is  raised 
in  the  mind  by  bringing  this  object  in  strong,  graphic, 
*  AVhately's  Ehetoric. 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  299 

and  moving  terms  before  it.*  The  foundation,  there- 
fore, of  all  successful  execution  in  the  way  of  the 
indirct  appeal  to  the  pathetic,  is  to  paint  the  object 
of  the  passion  which  we  wish  to  raise  in  the  most 
natural  and  striking  manner,  and  to  describe  it  with 
such  circumstances  as  are  likely  to  awaken  it  in  the 
minds  of  others. 

It  is  evident  that  this  result  will  not  be  brought 
about  by  mere  argumentation.  Arguments,  no  matter 
how  powerful  they  may  be,  to  prove  the  fitness  or 
reasonableness  of  our  being  moved  in  a  certain  way, 
merely  dispose  us,  at  the  very  most,  for  entering  into 
such  an  emotion,  but  they  do  not  excite  it.  The 
preacher,  whilst  employing  them,  speaks  only  to  our 
reason  or  our  conscience,  but,  he  must  do  more  than 
this.  He  must  also  speak  to  our  heart  ;  and,  therefore, 
if  he  would  excite  within  us  the  sentiment  of  compas- 
sion, for  example,  he  must  not  only  prove  to  us  that 
such  a  sentiment  is  a  noble  disposition,  but  he  must 
dwell  upon  and  develop  those  circumstances  which 
are  calculated  to  awaken  it.  He  must  set  before  us  in 
moving  terms  a  lively  description  of  the  distress  suflered 
by  him  for  whom  he  would  interest  us ;  and,  then, 
and  not  till  then,  our  hearts  begin  to  be  moved,  and 
our  compassion  begins  to  flow. 

All  this  supposes,  of  course,  a  close  study  and  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  of  those 
*  Blair. 


300  The  Pathetic  Part. 

springs  by  which  it  is  directed  and  governed.  It  also 
supposes  a  facility  of  description,  a  command  of 
language,  and  a  certain  copiousness  of  detail  in  working 
out  the  conceptions  of  the  mind,  or,  in  painting  those 
real  occurrences  which  are  presented  to  an  audience, 
with  the  object  of  exciting  becoming  feelings  or  emo- 
tions. In  a  description  of  anything  which  is  to  act 
upon  the  Feelings,  it  is  evident  that  the  more  perfect 
and  complete  that  description  is,  the  more  complete 
will  be  the  success  of  the  appeal,  always  supposing 
that  we  do  not  transgress  the  bounds  of  nature,  and 
become  too  artificial  or  laboured.  Quintilian  explains 
this  by  a  very  appropriate  example.  A  person  may 
tell  you,  he  observes,  that  a  certain  city  was  sacked  ; 
but,  although  that  one  word  implies  all  that  really 
occurred,  he  will  produce  little  or  no  impression  on 
your  mind  in  comparison  of  one  who  brings  before  you 
a  description  of  those  terrible  acts  of  slaughter  and 
bloodshed  which  always  accompany  such  a  scene. 
Or,  as  he  adds  very  pithily,  to  tell  the  whole  is  by  no 
means  the  same  as  to  tell  everything. 

We  may,  perhaps,  render  our  meaning  more  clear, 
and  our  idea  of  the  difference  between  the  direct  and 
the  indirect  appeal  to  the  feelings  more  sensible,  by  an 
example. 

Let  us  suppose  a  preacher  to  have  selected  the  Sa- 
cred Passion  of  Christ  as  the  subject  of  his  discourse. 
If  he  confine  himself  to  the  history  of  the  various 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  301 

stages  of  that  tremendous  tragedy,  bringing  forward 
in  earnest  and  pathetic  language,  but  without  any- 
direct  expression  of  his  own  sentiments,  those  circum- 
stances of  time,  place,  pei-son,  etc.,  which  he  deems 
most  fitting  to  awaken  feelings  of  compunction,  grati- 
tude, love,  etc.,  in  the  souls  of  his  hearei-s,  his  appeal 
to  the  passions  is  so  far  indirect.  But,  if,  without  any 
such  description,  or,  at  its  conclusion,  he  break  forth 
into  a  strong  and  ardent  expression  of  those  sentiments 
with  which  he  himself  has  become  inflamed  by  the 
consideration  of  his  subject ;  and,  if,  by  the  mere  force, 
and  as  the  mere  result  of  this  strong  feeling,  he  suc- 
ceed in  awakening  within  the  hearts  of  his  hearers 
those  same  sentiments  by  which  his  own  is  so  deeply 
moved,  his  appeal  in  this  case  is  direct. 

Hence,  it  will  not  unfrequently  happen,  that  the 
direct  appeal  will  follow  the  indirect,  which  will  thus 
sen'^e  as  a  preparation  for  it,  whilst,  at  the  same  time, 
it  will  render  it  more  efficacious  and  telling.  Hence, 
too,  that  appeal  to  the  passions  which  combines  the 
direct  and  the  indirect,  or,  in  other  words,  which 
makes  the  indirect  the  foundation  upon  which  the 
direct  apjDeal  to  the  feelings  rests  and  is  built,  will  be 
found,  as  an  ordinaiy  rule,  not  only  the  easiest  and 
most  practicable  to  the  preacher,  but  the  most  effica- 
cious and  the  most  telling  upon  his  audience. 

We  have  many  examples  of  the  force  of  the  indirect 
appeal  to  the  feelings.     One  of  the  most  striking  is  to 


302  The  Pathetic  Part. 

be  found  in  the  Fourth  Book  of  Kings,  chap.  6,  which 
contains  an  account  of  the  siege  of  Samaria  and  the 
terrible  famine  suffered  by  the  inhabitants. 

"  And  as  the  king  of  Israel  was  passing  by  the  wall, 
a  certain  woman  cried  out  to  him,  saying :  save  me, 
my  lord,  O  king. 

"  And  he  said,  if  the  Lord  doth  not  save  thee,  how 
can  I  save  thee  ?  out  of  the  barn-door,  or  out  of  the 
wine-press  ?  And  the  king  said  to  her  :  What  aileth 
thee  ?     And  she  answered  : 

"  This  woman  said  to  me :  Give  thy  son,  that  we 
may  eat  him  to-day,  and  we  shall  eat  my  son  to-morrow. 

"So  we  boiled  my  son,  and  eat  him.  And  I  said 
to  her  on  the  next  day :  Give  thy  son  that  we  may 
eat  him.     And  she  hath  hid  her  son. 

"  When  the  king  heard  this,  he  rent  his  garments, 
and  passed  by  upon  the  wall.  And  all  the  people  saw 
the  hair-cloth  which  he  wore  next  to  his  flesh." 

No  words  could  give  a  more  lively  idea  of  the  state 
to  which  tlie  inhabitants  of  the  besieged  city  were 
reduced,  Avhilst  no  direct  appeal  could  be  so  successful 
in  exciting  those  feelings  of  horror  which  arise  within 
in  the  heart  at  the  mere  recital  of  this  terrible  scene. 
Again,  how  powerfully,  although  indirectly,  the  sacred 
writer  appeals  to  the  sentiment  of  compassion,  in 
describing  the  lamentation  of  David  over  Saul  and 
Jonathan,*  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  touching 
*  2  Kings,  i,  17. 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  303 

pieces  of  composition  which  was  ever  penned.  And 
more  strongly  still  is  the  same  sentiment  excited  by 
the  description  of  David's  soitow  for  his  unworthy  son 
Absalom.  "  The  King  therefore  being  much  moved, 
went  up  to  the  high-chamber  over  the  gate,  and  wept 
And  as  he  went  he  spake  in  this  manner :  My  son 
Absalom,  Absalom  my  son  :  who  would  grant  me 
that  I  might  die  for  thee,  Absalom  my  son,  my  sou 
Absalom."  *  Who  can  read  these  words,  so  touching 
in  their  simplicitj^  without  feeling  his  heart  excited 
to  compassion  for  the  father  who  could  thus  bewail 
the  untimely  death  of  his  rebellious  and  ungrateful 
child  ;  or  how  could  the  sacred  writer  have  taken  a 
more  effectual  means  of  awakening  this  sentiment,  than 
by  this  natural  and  lifelike  description  of  the  King's 
sorrow.  Perhaps  one  of  the  most  artistic  and  highly- 
wrought  examples  of  the  indirect  appeal  to  the  pas- 
sions is  to  be  found  in  the  speech  of  Anthony  over  the 
dead  body  of  Caesar.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  con- 
ceive that  any  direct  appeal  could  have  been  equally 
successful  in  stirring  up  those  strong  and  fierce  passions, 
which  are  represented  as  having  been  awakened  by 
this  crafty  but  most  skilful  address. 

It  would  be  useless  to  dwell  at  greater  length,  in 

this  place,  on  the  necessity  of  moving  the  passions  in 

order  to  secure  the  end  of  a  persausive  oration,  neither 

is  it  necessary  to  examine  critically  the  nature  of  those 

*  2  King?,  xviii,  33. 


304  The  Pathetic  Pakt. 

passions.  The  ancient  rhetoricians  lay  down  a  veiy 
elaborate  system  according  to  which  the  appeals  to  the 
passions  are  to  be  conducted.  They  enquire  metaphysi- 
cally into  the  nature  of  every  passion,  give  a  definition 
and  description  of  it,  treat  of  its  cause,  its  effects,  and 
its  concomitants,  and  thence  deduce  technical  rules  for 
working  upon  it.  Aristotle,  especially,  has  discussed 
this  matter  with  great  subtilty,  and  what  he  has  writ- 
ten may,  as  Blair  remarks,  be  read  with  great  profit 
as  a  piece  of  moral  philosophy,  but  we  doubt  whether 
this  study  will  have  much  influence  in  rendering  the 
preacher  more  pathetic,  since  we  doubt  whether  any 
mere  philosophical  knowledge  will  do  mucli  to  give  a 
man  the  power  of  moving.  For  this  refison,  and  be- 
cause we  shall  treat  sufficiently  of  the  subject  when 
speaking  of  the  method  of  conducting  the  pathetic 
part  of  a  discourse,  we  have  not  deemed  it  necessaiy 
in  this  place  to  enter  into  any  more  critical  examina- 
tion of  the  passions,  but  shall  at  once  proceed  to  con- 
sider the  conditions  which  are  requisite,  and  the  order 
in  which  the  appeal  to  the  passions  is  to  be  carried  on; 
first  briefly  remarking  that  although,  as  is  evident,  a 
discourse  does  not  always  directly  tend  to  persuade, 
still  that  this  is  its  general  characteristic  and  scope, 
since  instruction  and  argumentation  merely  pave  the 
way  for  persuasion,  of  whose  peculiar  characteristics 
they  ought  to  partake,  as  far  as  is  consonant  to  their 
own  natural  and  proper  qualities.     For  example,  the 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  305 

first  quality  of  an  argument,  no  doubt,  is  sound  I'cason- 
ing  ;  but,  the  rhetorical  argument,  as  we  have  already 
shown,  is,  by  its  amplification,  the  huiguage  in  which 
it  is  clothed,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  put,  adapted 
not  only  to  convince,  but,  also,  in  a  certain  measure  and 
degree,  to  persuade. 

The  appeal  to  the  passions  is  not  confined  to  any 
particular  part,  but  may  be  employed  throughout  the 
coui"se  of  a  semion,  as  the  nature  of  the  subject  and 
the  experience  of  the  preacher  may  suggest.  As  a 
general  rule  it  is  out  of  place  in  the  introduction.  It 
comes  in,  both  properly  and  powerfully,  although  in 
a  modified  degree,  at  the  conclusion  of  each  part  or 
point  of  a  sermon,  since  Ave  there  wind  up  some  argu- 
ment, or  class  of  proofs,  which  we  naturally  seek  to 
drive  home,  not  only  to  the  intellect,  but  to  the  hearts 
of  our  hearers.  Its  place,  par  excellence,  where  it 
reigns  supreme  is,  however,  as  we  shall  show  later  on, 
in  the  Peroration,  or,  conclusion  of  a  discourse. 

SECTION  III. 

CERTAIN  CONDITIONS    WHICH  ARE  REQUIRED  IN  HIM 
WHO    APPEALS  TO  THE  PASSIONS, 

In  order  to  move  a  Christian  audience,  to  touch  the 

heart  and  change  it  from  vice  to  virtue,  it  is  clear  that 

a  man  must  be  something  more  than  a  mere  actor ; 

that  he  must  possess  some  higher  qualifications  than 
20 


306  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

those  required  in  him  who  plays  his  part  upon  the 
profane  stage,  and,  who,  when  he  is  a  master  of  his 
art,  is  able  to  acquire  such  a  wonderful,  although 
temporar}^  influence  over  the  feelings  of  his  audience. 

The  Christian  preacher  must  be  an  orator,  but,  more 
than  that,  he  must  be  a  man  of  edifying  life,  and  a  man 
of  praj-er.  He  nnist  be  a  man  of  edifying  life,  since 
his  audience  will  not  allow  themselves  to  be  truly  and 
efficaciously  moved  and  changed  by  the  words  of  one 
whose  conduct  is  a  living  and  open  contradiction  to  his 
preaching.  He  must  be  a  man  of  prayer,  because,  how- 
ever much  he  may  labour,  and  however  great  his  nat- 
ural talents  may  be,  it  is  the  all-powerful  grace  of  God 
alone  which  can  crown  his  preaching  with  a  fruitful 
increase. — Paul  may  plant,  and  Apollo  may  water,  but 
it  is  God  who  2:iveth  the  increase — and  this  grace  he 
will  only  obtain  by  fervent  prayer  for  the  success  of 
that  great  work,  which,  undertaken  with  a  pure  inten- 
tion and  in  the  simple  discharge  of  duty,  has  for  its 
sole  ol^ject  the  greater  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation 
of  souls. 

Another  essential  qualitication,  required  in  him  who 
aspires  to  move  others,  is  to  be  first  deeply  moved 
himself,  and,  so  to  speak,  inspired  by  his  subject. 
Cor  sapientis  enidiet  os  ejus,  et  lahiis  ejus  addet  gra- 
tiam*  says  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  true  orator,  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  word,  must  be  a  man  endowed  with 
*  Prov.  xvi,  23. 


Appeal  to  the  Passioxs.  307 

lively  sensibilities  ;  with  a  keen  appreciation  of  the 
beautiful,  the  sublime,  and  the  true  ;  and  possessed  of 
strong,  but,  of  course,  well-disciplined  passions.  He 
must  be  able  to  feel,  and  he  must  be  able  to  express 
strongly  that  which  he  feels  deeply.  Experience 
teaches  that  the  heart  alone  which  is  itself  moved  is 
aljle  to  move  the  hearts  of  others.  "I  have  tried," 
says  Cicero,  "  all  the  means  of  moving.  I  have  raised 
them  to  the  highest  degree  of  perfection  which  was  hi 
my  power,  but,  I  candidly  confess,  that  I  owe  my  suc- 
cess much  less  to  my  own  efforts  than  to  the  force  of 
the  passions  which  agitate  me  when  I  speak  in  public, 
and  which  carry  me  out  of  mj-self.  It  was  their  force 
which  enabled  me  to  reduce  Hortensius  to  silence,  and 
to  close  the  mouth  of  Cataline."*  "  We  aspire,"  says 
Quintilian,  "  to  move  others  stronglj''.  Let  us  first 
feel  in  our  own  hearts  those  sentiments  with  which  we 
seek  to  animate  them.  How  shall  I  soften  others  if 
my  own  wo^ds  prove  that  I  myself  am  unmoved? 
How  shall  I  inflame  the  hearts  of  my  hearei-s  if  I  my- 
self am  cold  ?  How  shall  I  draw  the  tears  from  their 
ej^es  if  my  own  are  dry  ?  It  is  impossible.  You  can- 
not enkindle  a  conflagration  without  lire,  as  you  can- 
not fertilize  a  field  without  the  dcAvs  of  Heaven."! 
Hence,  the  well-known  and  familiar  sentence  of  Horace: 

" St  vis  me  flere,  dolendum  est 

Primum  ipsi  tibi." 

•  Orat.  cxxxii,  and  cxxix.  t  Lib.  vi. 


308  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

And  the  reason  of  all  this  is  veiy  plain.  When  the 
preacher  is  jDrofoundly  penetrated  with,  and  moved  by 
his  subject,  his  interior  emotion  imparts  to  his  words, 
liis  looks,  his  gestures,  his  whole  bearing,  a  w^araith  and 
feeling  which  exercise  an  iiTesistible  influence  upon 
his  hearers.  To  this  source,  too,  is  doubtless  to  be 
traced  the  real  inspiration  of  the  sympaihetic  voice, 
that  voice,  or,  rather,  that  quality  of  the  voice  which 
is  of  such  inestimable  value  to  him  Avho  possesses  it ; 
that  quality  for  the  acquiring  of  which  we  can  lay 
down  no  technical  rules ;  which  we  cannot  define ; 
which  we  cannot  descrilje  beyond  saying  that  it  is  a 
sometJiing  in  the  tone  of  the  preacher  which  exercises 
an  irresistible  attraction  upon  his  hearers ;  which, 
before  he  has  uttered  ten  sentences,  has  enlisted  them 
instinctively  on  his  side,  and  predisposed  them,  even 
before  they  have  heard  his  discourse,  to  think  as  he 
thinks,  and  to  will  as  he  wills.  We  have  a  striking 
feistance  of  this  in  St.  Ignatius  Loyola,  yih.o,  although 
he  preached  with  the  utmost  simplicity  of  language, 
did  so  with  such  an  unction  and  emotion,  that,  even 
those  amongst  his  audience  who  did  not  understand 
the  language  in  which  he  spoke  were,  nevertheless, 
moved  to  tears  by  the  very  tones  of  his  voice,  by  the 
earnestness  and  burning  zeal  which  appeared  in  his 
every  gestm^e  and  look. 

If  we  do  not  really  feel  in  our  ovav  heart  those  senti- 
ments with  which  we  seek  to  inspire  others,  it  is  vain 


Appeal  to  the  Passio^sts.  309 

to  make  pretence  of  possessing  them.  It  is  vain  to 
put  them  on  as  the  profane  actor  does  ;  although,  it 
may  be  fairly  doubted  whether  the  real  actor,  the  real 
man  of  genius,  does  not  truly  succeed  in  making  him- 
self feel,  for  the  time  being,  those  affections  and  pas- 
sions which  he  expresses  so  powerfully,  and  by  whose 
means  he  acts  so  wonderfully  on  his  audience. 

It  is  the  heart  alone  which  speaks  to  the  heart,  and 
uo  failure  is  more  deplorable,  as  no  pretence  is  more 
absurd,  than  that  of  the  preacher  who  seeks  to  move 
others,  and  to  inspire  them  with  deep  emotions  and 
generous  sentiments,  whilst  his  own  heart  is  perfectly 
cold  and  unmoved,  dead  to  those  feelings  which  he 
aspires  to  awaken  in  them.  In  such  a  case  his  gesti- 
culation is  in  excess,  and  his  tears  are  but  pretended. 
There  is  neither  reality,  depth,  nor  meaning  in  his 
aflected  emotion.  Either  he  moves  his  audience  to 
laughter  at  his  ridiculous  acting,  or  he  inspires  them 
with  compassion  for  his  utter  failm'e. 

Let  us  listen  for  a  moment  to  St.  Francis  of  Sales  : 
"  Your  words,"  he  says,  "  must  be  inflamed,  not  by 
cries  and  excessive  gesticulation,  but  by  the  interior 
warmth  and  feeling  of  your  soul.  They  must  spring 
from  the  heart  rather  than  from  the  mouth.  It  has 
been  beautifully  said  that  it  is  the  heart  which  appeals 
to  the  heart,  the  tongue  only  speaks  to  the  ears." 
Hence  the  reason  whj'  some  preachers  who  are,  in  a 
certain  sense  of  the  word,  very  popular,  produce  so 


310  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

little  real  fruit.  Their  discourses  are  composed  in  the 
most  brilliant  style,  and  are  brimming  with  figures  of 
speech,  and  flowers  of  rhetoric.  So  far  as  regards 
mere  composition,  nothing  is  wanting ;  and,  yet,  as 
^ve  listen  to  the  preacher  whilst  he  pours  forth  all  this 
beautiful  language,  we  cannot  help  experiencing  a 
sensation  that  he  does  not  really  feel  the  sentiments 
which  he  expresses  ;  that  his  language  does  not  spring 
warm  from  his  lieart ;  that  he  is,  to  speak  the  plain 
inivarnished  truth,  but  a  declaimer.  On  the  same 
groimd  we  can  explain  the  success  of  those  holy  men 
who  conduct  tlie  "  Missions ,"  which  produce  such 
wonderful  results.  It  is  not  that  they  are  more  learned, 
that  they  instruct  more  clearly,  or  reason  more  pro 
foundly  than  ordinary  preachers  ;  but  it  is  because  they 
understand  better  how  to  appeal  to  the  heart,  and 
l)ecause  they  speak  with  the  burning  words  of  men 
who  appreciate  very  keenly  the  interests  of  God  and 
the  salvation  of  souls.  Their  words  carry  not  only 
conviction,  but  persuasion,  to  the  hearts  of  their 
hearers,  and  hence  the  triumphs  over  sin,  over  haljits 
which  appeared  inveterate,  and  over  passions  which 
seemed  invincible,  which  are  the  glorious  results  of  a 
successful  "Mission."  Hence,  too,  the  extempore  ser- 
mon is,  positis  ponendis^  often  so  much  more  successful 
than  the  discourse  which  is  written  and  committed  to 
memory,  since  it  gains  in  force  and  feeling  what  it  may 
lose  in  mere  strict  correctness  of  composition.     Dr. 


Appeal  to  the  Passioxs.  311 

Newman  has  the  following  beautiful  and  practical 
remaite  on  thit>  subject : — 

*'  Earnestness  creates  earnestness  in  others  by  sym- 
pathy ;  and  the  more  a  preacher  loses  and  is  lost  to 
himself,  the  more  does  he  gain  his  brethren.  Nor  is  it 
■without  some  logical  force  also  ;  for  what  is  powerful 
enough  to  absorb  and  possess  a  preacher,  has  at  least  a 
prima  facie  claim  of  attention  on  the  part  of  his 
hearers.  On  the  other  hand,  anything  which  inter- 
feres with  this  earnestness,  or  which  argues  its  absence, 
is  still  more  certain  to  blunt  the  force  of  the  most 
cogent  argument  conveyed  in  the  most  eloquent  lan- 
guage. Hence  it  is  that  the  great  philosopher  of  anti- 
quit}"",  in  speaking,  in  his  Treatise  on  Rhetoric,  of  the 
various  kinds  of  pereuasives  which  are  available  in  the 
Art,  considers  the  most  authoritative  of  these  to  be 
that  which  is  drawn  from  personal  traits  of  a  moral 
nature  evident  in  the  orator  ;  for  such  matters  are 
cognizable  by  all  men,  and  the  common  sense  of  the 
world  decides  that  it  is  safer,  when  it  is  possible,  to 
commit  oneself  to  the  judgment  of  men  of  character, 
than  to  any  consideration  addressed  merely  to  the 
feelings  or  the  reason. 

"  On  these  grounds  I  would  go  on  to  lay  down  a 
precept,  which  I  trust  is  not  extravagant,  when  allow- 
ance is  made  for  the  preciseness  and  the  point  which 
are  miavoidable  in  all  categorical  statements  upon 
matters  of  conduct.     It  is  that  preachers  should  neglect 


312  The  Pathetic  Pakt. 

everything  besides  devotion  to  their  one  object,  and 
earnestness  in  enforcing  it,  till  they  in  some  good 
measure  attain  to  these  requisities.  Talent,  logic,  learn- 
ing words,  manner,  voice,  action,  all  are  required  for 
the  perfection  of  a  preacher ;  but  '  one  thing  is  neces- 
sary,'— an  intense  perception  and  appreciation  of  the 
end  for  which  lie  preaches,  and  that  is,  to  be  the 
minister  of  some  detinite  spiritual  good  to  those  who 
hear  him.  Who  could  wish  to  be  more  eloquent,  more 
powerful,  more  successful  than  the  Teacher  of  the 
Nations  ?  yet  who  more  earnest,  who  more  natural, 
who  more  unstudied,  who  more  self-forgetting  than 
he?  .  .  .  I  do  not  mean  that  a  preacher  must  aim 
at  earnestness,  but  that  he  must  aim  at  his  object,  which 
is  to  do  some  spiritual  good  to  his  hearei-s,  and  which 
will  at  once  make  him  earnest.  It  is  said  that,  when 
a  man  has  to  cross  an  abyss  by  a  narrow  plank  thrown 
over  it,  it  is  his  wisdom  not  to  look  at  the  plank,  along 
which  lies  his  path,  but  to  fix  his  eyes  steadily  on  the 
point  in  the  opposite  precipice,  at  which  the  plank 
ends.  It  is  by  gazing  at  the  object  which  he  must 
reach,  and  ruling  himself  by  it,  that  he  secures  to  him- 
self the  power  of  walking  to  it  straight  and  steadily. 
The  case  is  the  same  in  moral  matters ;  no  one  will 
become  really  earnest,  by  aiming  directly  at  earnest- 
ness ;  any  one  may  become  earnest  by  meditating  on 
the  motives,  and  by  drinking  at  the  sources,  of  earn- 
estness.    We  may  of  coui^se  work  ourselves  up  into  a 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  313 

pretence,  nay  into  a  paroxysm,  of  earnestness ;  as  we 
may  chafe  our  cold  hands  till  they  are  warm.  But 
when  we  cea-se  chafing,  we  lose  the  warmth  again  ;  on 
the  contrary,  let  the  sun  come  out  and  strike  us  with 
his  beams,  and  we  need  no  artificial  chafing  to  be  warm. 
The  hot  words,  then,  and  energetic  gestures  of  a  preach- 
er, taken  by  themselv^es,  are  just  as  much  signs  of  earn- 
estness, as  rubbing  the  hands  or  flapping  the  arms  to- 
gether are  signs  of  warmth  ;  though  they  are  natural* 
where  earnestness  already  exists,  and  pleasing  as  being- 
its  spontaneous  concomitants.  To  sit  down  to  compose 
for  the  pulpit,  with  a  resolution  to  be  eloquent,  is  one 
impediment  to  persuasion  ;  but  to  be  determined  to  be 
earnest  is  absolutely  fatal  to  it. 

"  He  w^ho  has  before  his  mental  eye  the  Four  Last 
Things,  will  have  the  true  earnestness — the  horror  or 
the  rapture  of  one  who  witnessed  a  conflagration,  or 
discerned  some  rich  and  sublime  prospect  of  natural 
scenery.  His  countenance,  his  manner,  his  voice,  speak 
for  him,  in  proportion  as  his  view  has  been  vivid  and 
minute.  The  great  English  poet  has  described  this 
sort  of  eloquence,  when  a  calamity  had  befallen  : 

Tea,  this  man's  brow,  like  to  a  title  page, 
Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume. 
Thou  tremblest,  and  the  whiteness  in  thy  cheek 
Is  apter  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 

"It  is  this. earnestness,  in  the  supernatural  order, 
w^hich  is  the  eloquence  of  saints  ;  and  not  of  saints  only, 


314  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

but  of  all  Christian  preachers,  according  to  the  measure 
of  their  faith  and  love.  As  the  case  would  be  with 
one  who  has  actually  seen  what  he  relates,  the  herald 
of  tidings  of  the  invisil)le  world  also  will  be,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  whether  vehement  or  calm,  sad  or 
exhulting,  always  simple,  grave,  emphatic,  and  per- 
emptory ;  and  all  this,  not  because  he  has  proposed  to 
himself  to  be  so,  but  because  certain  intellectual  con- 
*victions  involve  certain  external  manifestations."* 

We  may,  therefore,  lay  it  down  as  a  general  prin- 
ciple in  this  matter  that  a  preacher,  in  order  to  move, 
must  himself  be  deeply  impressed  with  his  subject,  and 
intimately  affected  by  it. 

But  the  difficulty  of  course  is  to  secure  these  essential 
conditions.  It  is  easy  enough  when  Nature  has  en- 
dowed a  preacher,  and  it  is  one  of  her  most  precious 
gifts,  with  that  keen  and  tender  sensibility  of  soul  which 
enables  him  at  once,  not  only  to  appreciate^  but  to  feel, 
whatever  is  true,  beautiful,  and  sublime.  It  is  easy 
for  such  a  man  to  be  eloquent,  to  pour  forth  from  the 
hidden  depths  of  his  own  heart,  those  grand  ide^is,  those 
noble  sentiments,  those  generous  emotions,  which  move 
his  hearers  even  as  he  himself  is  moved.  It  is  this 
exquisite  sensibility  which  imparts  all  their  charm  to 
the  wi'itings  of  Fenelon,  which  renders  some  of  the 
compositions  of  St.  Bernard  so  pathetic  in  the  truest 
*  Uuiversity  Preaching.  % 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  315 

meaning  of  the  word,  and  which  inspires  some  of  the 
master-pieces  of  St.  John  Chr3-.sostom. 

If  a  man  have  not  received  the  gift  of  this  precious 
sensibihty,  although  he  may  become  a  great  lecturer, 
he  will  never  become  a  great  preacher.  Incapaljle  of 
true  feeling '  or  emotion  himself,  how  can  he  excite 
these  sentiments  in  others  ?  Let  him  who  has  received 
these  inestima1)le  gifts  in  their  fulness  labour  to  develop 
them  to  the  highest  degree.  Let  him  who  has  received 
them  in  a  lesser  measure,  labour  all  the  more  earnestly 
to  turn  to  the  very  best  account  tlie  talent  which  it  has 
pleased  his  Master  to  entrust  to  him.  Let  both  the  one 
and  the  other  be  persuaded,  as  we  have  already  said, 
that  pm'ity  of  life,  that  a  spirit  of  prayer  and  detach- 
ment from  the  world,  that  a  burning  zeal  for  the  glory 
of  God  and  the  salvation  of  immortal  souls,  are  the 
most  efficacious  meaiis  of  nourishing  and  developing 
these  precious  qualities.  If  a  man  be  pure,  if  he  be  a 
man  of  prayer,  if  his  soul  be  truly  inflamed  with  zeal 
for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  the  souls  for 
whom  He  died,  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  speak  coldly 
and  without  feeling  on  those  sublime  and  imjiortant 
subjects  which  are  so  intimately  and  essentially  con- 
nected with  the  dearest  interests  of  his  Master,  and  of 
his  flock.  Such  a  man  must  necessarily  be  a  man  of 
feeling,  in  a  higher  or  lower  degree ;  and,  in  that 
degree  also,  he  must  necessarily  be  an  eloquent  man. 

Although  internal  feeling  is  the  soul  of  eloquence, 


316  The  Pathetic  Part. 

still,  it  is  evident,  that  the  preacher,  in  order  to  act 
upon  his  hearers,  must  be  able  to  paint  vividly  those 
sentiments  which  he  feels  deepl3\  Hence  the  neces- 
sity of  what  is  technically  called  word  painting. 

The  great  orator  not  only  expresses  his  sentiments, 
but  he  paints  them.  The  inward  feeling  shows  itself 
in  the  tones  of  his  voice,  in  his  gesture,  in  his  counte- 
nance ;  in  a  word,  in  the  whole  exterior  deportment 
of  the  preacher,  which  bears  witness  to  the  reality  and 
the  depth,  as  well  as  to  the  extent,  of  that  feeling.  It 
also  not  rarely  gives  shape  and  form  to  his  very  words, 
and,  when  this  is  the  case,  its  result  is  the  most  power- 
ful and  vivid  kind  of  word-painting,  and  that  direct 
action  of  the  preacher  upon  the  souls  of  his  hearers 
which  has  already  been  desci'ibed. 

When,  however,  the  inspiration  may  not  be  so 
intense,  nor  its  influence  upon  our  words  so  keen  and 
direct,  we  must  in  order  to  give  vivid  expression  to 
our  sentiments,  avail  ourselves  of  those  other  succours 
which  are  placed  at  our  disposal,  viz.,  imagination, 
rhetoric,  and  taste. 

The  imagination  is  that  faculty  of  the  soul  which 
represents  objects,  the  creations  of  the  mind  or  actual 
occurrences,  in  such  a  lively  manner,  and  mider  such 
various  points  of  view,  as  to  bring  them  in  distinct 
and  living  form  before  us.  It  renders  them,  so  to 
speak,  tangible  and  real ;  it  gives  them  "  a  local  habi- 
tation and  a  name ;''  it  clothes  the  naked  and  perhaps 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  317 

uninviting  truth  in  those  rich  and  beautiful  garments 
of  conception  and  of  expression  which  render  it  potent 
to  interest,  to  soften,  and  to  move.  The  fruits  of  the 
imagination,  says  Longinus,  animate  and  give  life  to  a 
discourse  ;  they  captivate  and  persuade.  The  means 
of  cultivating  and  develo]|ing  this  inestimal)le  faculty, 
so  precions  in  itself,  so  useful  and  so  necessaiy  to  the 
orator,  consists  in  representing  vividly  to  oneself  those 
actions  of  which  we  speak,  just,  as  if  we  ourselves  had 
seen  them,  and  were  merely  relating  what  we  liad  seen  ; 
in  studying  deeply  circumstances  of  persons,  time, 
place,  and  manner — attending  principally  to  those 
which  are  best  adapted  to  appeal  to  the  imagination  ; 
imd  in  reading  good  authors — obsei*ving  how  they,  by 
lively  images,  render  their  ideas  sensible  and  real,  and 
thus  bring  them  home  in  all  their  vivid  reality  to  the 
minds  and  hearts  of  their  readers. 

Rhetoric  is  the  auxiliary  on  which  the  imagination 
principally  relies  for  aid,  cultivation,  development,  and 
expression.  The  vivid  conceptions  of  the  imagination 
find  their  most  lively  and  most  telling  expression  in  the 
principal  rhetorical  figures ;  as  in  exclamations  and 
apostrophes,  especially  such  as  are  addressed  in  tender 
and  fervent  words  to  God  ;  in  interrogation,  the  most 
lively  and  spirited  of  all  the  figures  of  rhetoric  ;  in 
dialogue,  which  brings  the  preacher  and  his  audience 
into  the  most  direct  and  intimate  relation  with  each 
other,  and  which,  therefore,  is  so  well  adapted  to  impart 


318  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

life  to  a  discourse  ;  in  soliloquy,  by  which  the  hearer 
is  made  to  enter  into  himself,  to  reproach  himself  for 
the  past,  and  inspire  himself  with  good  resolutions  for 
the  future  ;  in  adjuration,  which  consists  in  calling 
God,  His  saints,  the  altar,  the  cross,  or  the  very  walls 
of  the  church,  to  bear  witness  to  the  pious  intentions 
of  our  audience ;  in  fine,  in  those  sighs  and  ardent 
desires  which  the  pious  preacher  addresses  to  God 
during  his  sermon  for  the  conversion  of  his  flock,  for 
the  grace  of  causing  them  to  love  the  God  who  poured 
forth. His  precious  blood  for  their  salvation.  When 
the  preacher  speaks  from  a  heart  that  is  animated  by  a 
lively  faith  and  a  tender  love,  he  is  certain  to  speak 
with  effect.  A  short  prayer ;  an  aspiration  of  love, 
zeal,  or  desire  of  God's  glory  ;  one  glance  of  his  eyes 
to  heaven ;  even  a  single  sigh,  coming  from  such  a 
man,  is  sufficient  to  impart  a  force  to  the  most  simple 
reflections  Avhich  will  move  an  audience  to  tears.  Such 
is  the  effect  of  sanctity  and  zeal  in  a  preacher. 

Finally,  the  orator  must  l)e  a  man  of  good  taste — 
that  pure  and  delicate  instinct  which  intimately  ap- 
preciates whatever  is  truly  beautiful ;  which  discovers 
intuitively  whatever  is  false,  coarse,  or  unbecoming  ; 
which  renders  an  idea  or  sentiment  with  perfect  truth 
and  perfect  propriety.  Without  its  control  and  direc- 
tion the  imagination  runs  riot ;  and  rhetoric  scatters 
its  flowers  without  order  or  discernment.  Governed 
and  directed  liy  good  taste,  imagination  and  rhetoric 


Appeal  to  the  Passioxs.  319 

are  restrained  within  due  limits.  The  colours  which 
are  to  embellish  and  give  beauty  to  a  discourse  are  dis- 
tributed with  wisdom,  instead  of  being  lavished  with 
tasteless  profusion.  Everything  is  in  its  place,  where 
it  ought  to  be,  and  as  it  ought  to  be.  The  great  and 
important  faculty  of  taste  is  cultivated  and  developed 
by  the  study  of  good  models,  by  the  habit  of  reflec- 
tion, and  by  a  severe  and  unsparing  criticism  of  our 
own  compositions,  whether  spoken  or  written. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  the  true  orator 
is  not  only  animated  by  strong  feelings,  but  that  he 
expresses  those  feelings  in  the  proper  language  of  the 
passions.  The  language  of  the  man  who  is  under  the 
influence  of  real  and  strong  passion,  is  simple  and  un- 
affected. Altogether  taken  up  by  the  feeling  which 
has  so  deeply  moved  him,  he  scarcely  bestows  a  thought 
upon  the  manner  in  which  he  gives  expression  to  it. 
He  merely  seeks  to  represent  it  in  all  its  circumstances 
as  strongly  as  he  feels  it.  He  has  no  time,  and  less  in- 
clination, to  think  about  mere  words,  and  hence  the 
simplicity  and  perhaps  plainness  of  the  language  which 
he  employs.  His  expression,  his  voice,  his  gesture,  are 
regulated  by  the  depth  of  his  feeling,  and  althoi?gh 
his  language  may  be  bold,  although  he  may  employ 
strong  figures,  he  will  use  neither  frippery  ornament 
nor  mere  finerv.  His  figures  w^ill  be  those  of  thought 
rather  than  of  Avords  ;  and,  as  his  thoughts  are  bold, 
ardent,  and  simple,  so  will  the  figures  of  which  he 


320  The  Pathetic  Paet. 

makes  use  and  the  whole  tenor  of  his  language  par- 
take of  the  same  qualities.  As  Dr.  Blair  remarks  on 
this  matter,  if  he  were  to  stay  until  he  could  work  up 
his  style,  he  would  infallibly  cool  his  ardour,  and, 
losing  his  ardour,  he  would  touch  the  heart  no  more. 

SECTION  IV. 

THE   ORDER   TO    BE  OBSERVED    IN    APPEALING    TO    THE 

PASSIONS. 

That  the  appeal  to  the  passions  may  produce  its  due 
effect,  it  must  be  conducted  with  great  wisdom  and  dis- 
cretion, and,  in  as  far  as  true  passion  and  feeling  can 
be  subjected  to  fixed  rules,  according  to  the  general 
principles  laid  down  on  this  mattei"  by  the  great 
authorities  on  oratory. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  there  must  be  a  natural  relation 
of  convenience  and  agreement  between  our  subject  and 
the  ajjpeal  to  the  passions.  In  other  words,  the  sub- 
ject, and  that  part  of  it  especially  to  which  we  apply 
the  pathetic,  must  admit  of  this  appeal.  There  are 
simple  subjects  in  which  a  vehement  appeal  to  the 
passions  would  be  utterly  ridiculous.  There  are  others, 
as  for  example,  the  enormity  of  sin,  the  death  of  the 
sinner,  judgment,  hell,  etc.,  which  admit  of  the  most 
powerful  appeals  to  the  feeling  of  our  hearer.  Strong 
appeals  to  the  passions  are  here  in  their  proper  place, 
and,  when  employed  by  a  preacher  who  is  truly  pene- 


Appeal  to  the  Passions.  321 

trated  by  his  subject,  they  produce  the  most  striking- 
and  consoling  results.  Again,  there  are  other  subjects, 
as  the  love  of  God  and  our  neighbour,  heaven,  patience, 
charity,  etc.,  in  treating  -which  it  is  necessary  and  be- 
coming to  appeal  to  the  more  tender  passions  of  the 
soul.  Indeed,  under  this  head  avc  may  range  the 
greater  number  of  those  subjects  which  the  preacher 
will  have  to  treat,  since  our  holy  religion  is  founded 
on  charity  and  love,  and  since  tlie  heart  of  the  sinner 
is  much  more  easily  gained,  as  a  general  rule,  b}' 
sweetness  than  through  fear.  Hence,  too,  Ave  may 
conclude  that  the  leading  characteristic  of  pulpit 
oratory  should  be  unction,  that  sweet,  pious,  and  affec- 
tionate effusion  of  a  heail  Avhich  is  full  of  God,  which 
makes  its  wa^^,  without  violence  or  uproar,  into  the 
soul  of  the  hearer ;  which  awakens  there  the  most 
tender  and  most  becoming  emotion,  and  thus  gains  it 
to  God  with  all  its  aspirations  and  all  its  powers. 
Amongst  the  great  French  preachers,  Mjissillon  reigns 
supreme  in  the  possession  of  this  quality. 

2.  We  must  gradually  prepare  the  way  for  the 
appeal  to  the  passions.  We  must  have  gained,  in  the 
first  place,  the  understanding  and  judgment  of  our 
hearers  ;  so  that,  when  the  warmth  of  feeling  and  the 
emotion  produced  by  the  appeal  to  the  passions  shall 
have  passed,  they  may  be  convinced  that  they  acted  as 
reasonable  men,  that  there  were  sufficient  grounds  foi' 

their  entering  into  the  cause,  and  that  thev  were  not 
21 


322  The  Pathetic  Part. 

carried  away  by  mere  delusion.  Preparing  them  in 
this  manner  by  instruction  and  solid  argumentation, 
we  lead  our  hearers  by  degrees  to  the  appeal  to  the 
feelings,  which  thus  appears  to  come  in  as  a  natural 
consequence  of  what  has  been  said.  If  we  throw  in 
these  appeals  abruptly,  without  order  or  a  proper 
preparation  of  the  minds  of  our  audience  to  receive 
them,  we  depart  from  the  great  principles  laid  down 
by  nature,  and  instead  of  becoming  pathetic,  w^e 
run  the  risk  of  becoming  ridiculous.  This  precaution 
is  doubly  necessaiy  when  we  know  our  hearers 
entertain  dispositions  which  are  anything  but  favour- 
able to  our  purpose.  We  must  in  these  circumstances 
commence,  as  we  have  already  said,  by  entering  into 
their  thoughts,  and  conforming  ourselves  to  their  situa- 
tion. We  must  then  gently  soothe,  and  thus  remove, 
the  passions  which  are  opposed  to  those  which  we 
wish  to  excite ;  and  finally,  appeal  to  those  feelings 
and  emotions  which  we  aspire  to  a^vaken  in  them.  If 
we  do  not  thus  gradually  and  carefully  prepare 
the  way  for  the  appeal  to  the  passions,  it  is  imjjossible 
that  it  can  produce  any  real  or  lasting  effect. 

3.  Every  appeal  to  the  passions  ought  to  be  properly 
sustained,  and  not  concluded  with  too  much  haste,  or 
with  any  undue  and  ill-timed  brevit}'.  No  lasting  im- 
pression will  be  produced  on  the  heart,  if,  in  order  to 
pass  on  to  something  else,  we  hastily  leave  mideveloped 
the  emotion  which  may  have  begun  to  manifest  itself. 


Appeal  to  the  Passioxs.  323 

By  neglecting  properly  to  sustain  the  emotion  which 
we  profess  to  excite,  we  prove  that  it  was  merely  fac- 
titious, that  it  had  no  real  foinitlation  in  our  own  heart ; 
and  thus  we  destroy  its  eft'ect.  At  the  same  time  our 
hearei-s  who  had  begun  to  be  moved,  and  who  were 
delivering  themselves  up,  willingly  and  gladly,  to  those 
emotions  which  we  had  succeeded,  to  some  extent,  in 
exciting  in  them,  finding  that  the  preacher  suddenly 
stops  short  and  concludes  where  they  thought  that  he 
was  but  commencing,  also,  on  their  side,  draw  back 
and  return  to  their  coldness  and  insensibility.  It  is  a 
great  want  of  tact  and  of  taste,  when  we  have  once 
begun  to  appeal  to  the  feelings  of  our  hearers,  to  leave 
that  appeal  imperfect  and  only  half  worked  out. 
When  once  undertaken  we  should  labour  to  render  it 
as  complete  as  possible,  developing  it  in  its  varied 
bearings  with  all  the  energy  at  our  command,  that 
thus  we  may  enter  more  intimately  into  the  hearts  of 
our  hearers  and  move  them  more  deeply.  Unless  we 
render  om*  appeal  thus  effective  we  had  .better  leave 
it  alone. 

4.  Whilst  we  labour  to  prepare  our  audience  gradu- 
ally for  the  appeal  to  their  feelings,  and  whilst  we  pro- 
perly sustain  and  carry  out  that  appeal,  we  must  equally 
guard  against  another  extreme — viz.,  the  pressing  of 
those  movements,  or  appeals,  too  fai\  If  we  must 
know  where  to  begin,  still  more  must  we  know  where 
to  leave  off. 


324  The  Pathetic  Part. 

The  state  of  the  soul  whilst  under  the  influence  of 
strong  feeling  is,  to  a  certain  degree,  a  state  of  violence, 
and  therefore  it  must  necessarily  be  transitory  and  brief. 
Prolonged  feeling,  when  strong,  is  contrary  to  nature. 
The  stronger  any  emotion  is  the  more  brief  is  its 
duration. 

When,  therefore,  the  preacher  has  succeeded  in 
awakening  in  his  hearers  those  deep  and  efficacious 
afiections  which  are  to  win  the  will  to  God,  he  ought 
to  he  very  much  on  his  guard  lest  he  fritter  them  awaj' 
in  empt}'  words.  Hence  it  is  that  tlie  language  of  the 
passions  is  strong,  vivid,  rapid — sometimes  even  rough. 
It  has  no  time  to  occupy  itself  about  nicely  balanced 
periods,  ingenious  figures,  or  highly  linished  sentences. 
The  emotions  which,  rushing  hot  from  the  heart,  are 
merely  finding  expression  in  the  words  of  the  lips,  are 
only  solicitous  about  finding  that  expression,  not  about 
the  language  in  which  they  may  be  worded. 

There  is  no  rule  for  the  expression  of  emotions  such 
as  these — for  the  voice  in  which  they  are  uttered,  and 
the  gestures  by  which  they  find  additional  force — save 
those  emotions  themselves  :  just  as  the  soldier,  whose 
whole  energies  are  bent  upon  driving  the  enemy  from 
the  gate  of  his  city,  does  not  stop  one  instant  to  con- 
sider whether  the  spectators  are  admiring  his  efforts, 
provided  those  efforts  are  being  crowned  with  success. 
AVhilst  the  preacher  is  under  the  influence  of  sincere, 
honest,  and  fervent  zeal  ;  whilst  he  poui"s  forth  his 


Appeal  to  the  Passioxs.  ^     325 

burning  wonls  from  a  heart  inflamed  with  his  subject 
and  the  eternal  interests  of  his  flock  ;  let  him  not  doubt 
that  nature  will  supply,  in  abundance,  such  adornment 
and  figures  of  speech  as  his  subject  demands  or  requires. 
The  veiy  force,  strength,  and  unction  of  his  language, 
in  such  circumstances,  will  be  its  best  adornment. 

But,  as  we  have  already  said,  let  him  be  on  his 
guard  against  pushing  this  too  far.  That  which  is 
strong  must  be  brief,  as  that  which  is  violent  cannot 
endure.  Even  supposing  that  the  lungs  of  the  preacher 
Avere  robust  enough  to  enable  him  to  thunder  forth 
durinof  the  whole  course  of  his  sermon,  it  does  not  fol- 
low  that  his  hearers  would  have  courage  or  strength 
enough  to  sustain  the  continued  assaults  of  his  fieiy 
eloquence.  Besides,  we  have  shown  that  the  appeals 
to  the  ptissions,  in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  explained 
the  term,  are  intended  to  produce  effects  that  may,  to 
a  ceilain  degree,  be  called  extraordinary  ;  and  that 
their  aid  is  onl}^  invoked  in  order  to  perfect  the  work 
of  instruction  and  arsrumentation. 

If  this  be  the  true  view  of  their  employment,  it  fol- 
lows that,  as  they  must  not  be  pushed  too  far,  so  neither 
must  they  be  employed  too  frequently.  If  employed 
too  frequently,  they  naturally  enough  lose  that  extra- 
ordinar}'^  effect  which  rendei-s  them  such  an  efficacious 
instrument  in  the  hand  of  the  preacher.  If  you  ait- 
continually  endeavoring  to  awaken  strong  emotions  in 
the  soul,  she  becomes, accustomed  to,  and  hardened  by 


326  The  Pathetic  Part. 

them ;  just  as  the  body  becomes  hardened  and  callous 
under  repeated  blows  ;  and  thus  their  effect  is  utterly 
destroyed.  Hence,  although  there  is  no  part  of  a  dis- 
course which  ought  not  to  be  animated  by  his  zeal  and 
rendered  interesting  by  those  temperate  appeals  to  the 
feelings  which  the  nature  of  the  subject,  and  the  expe- 
rience of  the  preacher,  will  infallibly  suggest  to  him  ; 
still,  it  is  equally  true  and  certain  that,  what  we  may 
call  the  moi-e  formal  appeal  to  the  feelings,  must  only 
be  employed  at  intervals  during  a  sermon,  and  with  a 
perfect  agreement  of  fitness  and  relation  between  the 
sentiment,  its  depth  and  expression,  and  the  general 
nature  of  our  subject,  as  well  as  that  particular  part 
of  the  sermon  in  which  we  employ  it. 

A  natural  place  for  the  appeal  to  the  feelings  is  at 
the  end  of  each  part,  or  point  of  a  discourse.  It  is  to 
be  presumed  that,  during  the  course  of  our  argumen- 
tation, in  establishing  any  one  of  the  points  of  our 
sermon,  we  have  taken  a  good  deal  of  pains  to  reason 
clearly,  strongly,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  to  carry 
conviction  to  our  audience.  It  is  only  natural  that 
we  should  desire  to  put  the  finishing  stroke  to  our 
work  by  an  appeal  to  the  feelings  of  our  heai-ers  ;  and, 
thus,  this  appeal  comes  in  with  propriety  at  the  end 
of  each  part  of  our  discourse ;  or,  at  the  conclusion  of 
any  argument  which  we  are  particularly  anxious  to 
drive  home.     Its  peculiar  place,  however,  as  we  shall 


Peroration,  or  Conclusion".  327 

presently  show,  is  in  the  Peroration,  or,  Conclusion  of 
the  Sermon. 

In  tine,  the  preacher  in  his  appeals  to  the  feelings 
must  most  carefully  guard  against  anything  that  is  in 
the  least  degree  ontre,  ill-timed,  or  in  bad  taste.  Let 
him  carefully  treasure  up  the  wise  saying  of  Quintiliaii 
on  this  point — Nihil  hahet  ista  res  medium,  sed  aut 
lacrymas  meretur  aut  i-isum* — in  other  words,  that 
there  is  but  a  step  between  the  sublime  and  the  ridic- 
ulous. If  he  aspires  to  the  pathetic  without  succeeding 
in  his  efforts,  the  probability  is  that  he  will  simpl}' 
become  ridiculous  ;  he  will  certainly  become  cold, 
tedious,  and  ineiSfective.  JVe  quis,  sine  summis  ingenii 
viribus,  ad  movendas  lacrymas  aggredi  audeat. 
Metiatur  ac  diligenter  azstimet  vires  suas,  et  quantum 
onus  subiturus  sit,  intelligat.f' 

SECTION  V. 

THE  PERORATION  :  OR,  CONCLUSION  OF  THE  DISCOURSE. 

After  these  preliminaiy  observations  on  "persua- 
sion "  in  general,  and  the  means  by  which  it  is  to  be 
.secured,  we  now  proceed  to  treat  of  the  Peroration  : 
or.  Conclusion  of  the  Discourse.  The  truth,  laid  down 
in  our  proposition  and  developed  in  the  division,  having 
been  sufficiently  explained  and  confirmed  by  solid  argu- 
ment during  the  course  of  the  sermon — in  other  words, 

*  Lib.  vi,  c.  1.  t  Ibid. 


338  The  Pathetic  Part. 

the  points  of  our  discoiu'se  having  been  thoroughly 
established — nothing  now  remains  but  to  brino-  the 
whole  matter  to  a  proper  and  effective  conclusion. 

There  is  no  part  of  a  discoui-se  which  requires  to  be 
more  skilfully  managed,  and  more  carefully  studied, 
than  the  Peroration.  This  is,  indeed,  the  decisive 
moment,  the  last  assault  which  is  to  decide  the  victory. 
Spite  of  our  explanations,  spite  of  our  reasoning,  it 
may  be  that  our  hearers  still  hang  back,  unable  to  deny 
the  force  of  our  arguments,  and  yet  unwilling  to  make 
the  o-enerous  sacrifices  which  God  demands  at  their 
hands.  It  is  in  these  concluding  and  decisive  moments 
that  "we  are  to  brino;  the  full  weioht  of  our  zeal,  of 
our  love,  of  our  ardent  desire  for  the  advancement  of 
their  best  interests,  to  bear  upon  the  hearts  of  our 
hearers.  It  is  in  these  moments  that  we  are  to  rush 
down  upon  them  with  all  the  highest  eiforts  of  our 
talent  concentrated  on  one  grand  assault ;  that  Ave  arc 
to  press  the  reluctant  but  already  wavering  will,  from 
every  side  ;  that  we  are  to  leave  that  will,  and  the  irre- 
gular passions  by  which  it  is  sustained,  no  loop-hole 
for  escape  ;  that,  thus  urged,  influenced,  and  moved  by 
every  power  which  one  man  can  bring  to  bear  upon 
another,  we  may  wi'ing  from  our  hearers  full  and  un- 
conditional submission  to  the  force  of  those  arguments 
which  we  have  laid  before  them,  and  those  conclusions 
which  we  have  rigorously  deduced  ;  that  thus  we  may 
cbaw  from  the  penitent's  eye  those  saving  tears  which 


Peroration,  or  Coxclusiox.  329 

are  to  wash  even  his  deatlliest  siiis  away  ;  that  thus  wc 
may  awaken  those  generous  resolutions,  and  obtain 
those  triumphs  of  grace,  which  are  the  trophies,  and 
the  only  ones,  for  which  the  true  soldier  of  Christ  so 
ardently  sighs. 

Hence,  the  Peroration  is,  above  all  other  parts  of  a 
discourse,  the  place  for  the  appeal  to  the  passions. 
From  the  general  idea  of  the  nature  of  those  appeals 
which  we  have  already  given  it  follows  that  the  Pero- 
ration is  brief,  admitting  of  no  argument  strictlj'  so 
called,  nor  of  any  long  explanations.  In  these  last 
few  decisive  moments,  when  the  will  is  to  be  finally 
gained  or  lost,  all  must  be  strong,  Angorous,  passionate, 
warm  from  the  heart;  Quce  excellant,  serventur  ad 
perorandum*  says  Cicero  ;  and  Quintilian  writes.  Hie, 
si  usquam,  totos  eloquentim  fontes  aperire  licet.-f  It 
is  in  these  supreme  moments  that  passion  collects,  and 
animates  with  its  own  sacred  fire,  those  strong,  impet- 
uous, and  ardent  appeals — those  brilliant  turns  of 
thought — those  living  expressions — those  bold  figures 
of  speech — those  melting  images — which  pour  forth, 
iis  it  were  spontaneously,  from  the  lips  of  him  who  is 
truly  inspired  by  his  subject  and  his  mission.  And, 
hence  it  is,  that  the  discreet  and  practised  preacher  not 
only  takes  care  to  reserve  his  most  telling  strokes  for 
his  Peroration,  but  also  to  husband  suflScient  physical 

*  De  Orat.  Lib.  ii.  +  Lib.  vi.  c.  1. 


330  The  Pathetic  Part. 

streno-th  and  vigour  with  which  to  deliver  tliem  with 
the  fullest  effect. 

With  these  remarks  on  the  general  natui-e  and 
object  of  the  Peroration,  we  will  now  briefly  consider 
it  in  detail.  A  sermon  may  be  either  wholly  argu- 
mentative, wholly  exhortator}^  or  pathetic,  or,  as  is  the 
ease  with  ordinary  sermons,  partly  argumentative  and 
partly  exhortatoiy.  The  conclusion  will,  naturally, 
be  in  accordance  with  the  discourse  whicli  it  concludes. 

When  the  sermon  is  altogether  argumentative  or 
controversial,  as  may  sometimes,  although  we  imagine 
very  rarely,  be  required,  the  conclusion  Avill  of  course 
consist  of  a  mere  recapitulation  of  the  arguments. 
Such  a  conclusion,  however,  has  no  claim  to  be  called 
a  Peroration  in  the  oratorical  meaning  of  the  word. 

When  the  sermon  is  altogether  exhortatory,  the  Pero- 
ration is,  a  fortiori,  altogether  exhortatory  too,  or  taken 
lip  with  an  appeal  to  the  passions,  and  this  is  the  Pero- 
ration strictly  so  called. 

However,  as  neither  of  the  above  class  of  sermons  is 
likely  to  be  frequently  employed  by  ordinary  pastors, 
preaching  to  ordinary  congregations,  we  shall  not 
spend  any  time  in  considering  its  proper  Peroration, 
as  this  is  sufficiently  clear  from  the  general  principles 
which  have  been  already  laid  down,  and  the  nature  of 
the  case. 

The  Peroration  of  the  ordinaiy  sermon,  which  is 
partly    argumentative    and    partly    exhortatory    or 


Peroration,  or  Conclusion.  331 

ptatlietic,  comprises  as  a  general  rule,  which  of  course 
sutrei*s  exceptions,  four  leading  heads. 

1.  The  first  point  in  such  a  conclusion  is  a  brief  re- 
capitulation and  summary  of  the  parts  of  the  discourse, 
and  of  those  leading  arguments  which  we  deem  most 
conducive  to  persuasion.  By  thus  collecting  them  in 
one  serried  and  compact  body,  they  produce  a  greater 
impression  upon  the  mind  and  heart,  and  thus  gain  a 
more  complete  victory  over  our  hearers,  than  they  do 
Avhen  merely  brought  forward  one  l^y  one,  and  w^ithout 
the  additional  strength  which  they  acquire  from  mutual 
support.     Si  per  singula  minus  moverat,  turba  valet* 

This  recapitulation,  however,  must  be  extreiuely 
brief,  rapid,  and  almost  imperceptible  to  the  audience, 
since  they  will  naturally  be  unwilling  to  return  over 
the  ground  which  they  have  already  travelled.  As 
Cicero  strikingl}^  expresses  it,  our  end  in  this  matter 
is,  ut  memwia^  non  oratio,  renovata  videatur.\  With- 
out we  manage  it  in  this  manner  our  hearei-s  will  not 
listen  to  our  recapitulation. 

Besides,  our  object  in  this  place  is  not  to  prove,  but 
to  add  additional  force  to  those  proofs  which  we  have 
already  established.  Into  this  recapitulation  we  must 
throw  as  much  energy  and  warmth,  and  as  great 
variety  of  expression  as  possible.  Indeed,  we  should 
contrive  to  give  our  hearers  this  brief,  rapid,  and  vigor- 
our  resume  of  the  leading  points  and  arguments  of 

*  Quiut.  Lib.  vi.  +  De  luven.  lib.  i. 


332  The  Pathetic  Part. 

our  discourse,  without  alloAving  them,  in  as  fur  as  such 
a  mode  of  proceeding  is  practical)le,  to  perceive  that 
we  are  recapitulating.  In  other  words,  the  matter 
should  be  so  arranged  that,  whilst,  indirectly,  we 
recapitulate  our  nrguraents,  we  do  it  in  such  a  manner 
as  really  to  make  an  appeal  to  those  passions  which 
are  proper  to  be  awakened  in  the  case. 

2.  The  second  head  of  the  Peroration  should  embrace 
the  special  fruit  of  the  discourse,  or  the  practical  con- 
clusions and  resolutions  regarding  a  more  holy  Jife, 
wliich  naturally  flow  from  the  great  truth  which  has 
formed  the  subject  of  it.  St.  Liguori  lays  down  special 
rules  concerning  this  point,  and  recommends  it  to 
preachers  in  the  most  earnest  manner.  He  counsels 
them  to  embody  these  resolutions,  whenever  it  can  be 
done,  in  an  act  of  contrition  which  they  are  to  repeat 
from  the  pulpit  in  tones  of  the  most  lively  compunction 
and  of  the  deepest  and  warmest  love  ;  since  this  is  the 
favorable  moment,  he  says,  in  which  your  heaiers  are 
prepared  to  break  forth  in  sighs  and  tears,  and  return 
to  the  God  whom  they  have  so  long,  perhaps,  foi-saken. 

3.  The  third  element  of  the  Peroration  consists  in 
that  earnest,  burning,  and  zealous  exhortation  which  is 
to  penetrate  the  most  hidden  recesses  of  every  heart, 
which  is  to  change  every  will,  and  render  the  triumph 
of  grace  complete.  This  is  the  Peroration,  strictly  so 
called  ;  and  having  dwelt  so  fully  upon  its  nature, 
object,  and  means,  in  other  parts  of  this  chapter,  ii 


PERORATIO^'^,    OR    COXCLUSION.  333 

would  be  ouly  repetition  and  loss  of  time  to  delay 
longer  upon  it  here.  We  will  mcrel}'  remark,  that,  as 
>ve  ad\'ance  in  our  Peroration,  so  are  we  to  advance  in 
earnestness  and  fervour.  The  same  principle  holds  in 
this  as  in  other  parts  of  a  sermon,  Ut  aiigeatur  semper, 
e(  increscat  oratio.  It  is  very  etiective  when,  in  our 
final  appeal,  we  canstrongly  and  vividly  reproduce  the 
leading  idea  of  the  whole  discoui-se.  It  has  a  very 
great  effect  upon  our  hearers,  after  so  many  solid  proofs 
and  so  many  skilfid  strokes  of  oratoiy  have  been 
devoted  to  it,  to  see  the  great  leading  truth,  the  parent 
idea,  appear  once  more  at  this  crowning  moment  in  all 
the  force  of  its  beautiful  simplicity,  in  all  the  strength 
of  its  unit3\  The  discoui-se  thus  finishes  where  it 
liegan,  and  thus  exhibits  itself  once  more  in  all  the 
attractiveness  of  that  unity  which  is  at  once  its  beauty 
and  its  streno-th.  This  method  of  concludino-  becomes 
more  striking  still  when  we  close  our  discourse  with 
the  same  text  of  Scripture  with  wliich  we  commenced 
it,  thus  fixing  the  seal  of  God's  Holy  Word  upon  that 
which  we  began  in  His  name,  Avhich  w^e  have  carried 
on  to  His  greater  honour  and  glory,  and  which  we  thus 
conclude  with  the  self-same  words  which  contained  His 
commission  to  us  in  the  beginning,  as  they  now  place 
the  stamp  of  His  divine  authority  upon  the  end  of  our 
work,  a  work  so  humble  and  imperfect  in  itself,  so 
grand  and  so  august  as  the  work  of  His  minister  who 


334  The  Pathetic  Pakt. 

has  said,  Qui  vos  audit,  me   audit  •  et  qui  vos  spernit, 
me  spernit. 

Finally,  the  Peroration  is  most  fitly  concluded  by  a 
short  and  fervent  prayer  addressed  to  Jesus  Christ, 
His  blessed  mother,  or  His  saints ;  to  ask  grace  and 
strength  to  put  into  effect  those  holy  resolutions  with 
which  we  have  been  inspired.  Such  was  the  custom 
of  the  great  preachers  of  antiquity.  Such  is  the  pious 
practice  of  many  modem  orators,  and,  although  it  is 
not  of  obligation,  it  is  well  worthy  of  imitation. 
Massillon,  Pere  MacCarthy,  and  many  other  eminent 
preachers  were  accustomed  to  clothe  this  concluding 
prayer  in  a  Scriptural  garb,  by  putting  it  in  the  form 
of  a  paraphrase  of  some  select  text  of  Holy  Writ ; 
and  this,  Ave  need  hardly  add,  rendei's  it  doubly  efiec- 
tive,  whilst  it  also  naturally  leads  the  way  to  the 
Benediction  with  which  the  preacher  concludes  his 
discourse. 

EXAMPLES. 

Peroration  to  Archbishop  Manning's  Funeral  Oration 

of  Cardinal  Wiseynan. 

"  Great  and  noble  in  his  life,  he  was  greater  and 
nobler  in  his  death.  There  were  about  it  a  calmness,  a 
recollection,  a  majesty,  an  order  of  perfect  fitness  and 
preparation  worthy  of  the  chamber  of  death,  and  such 
as  became  the  last  hours  of  a  Pastor  and  Prince  of  the 
Church  of  God.     He  Avas  a  great  Christian  in  all  the 


Peroration,  or  Conclusion.  335 

Jeepest,  largest,  simplest,  meaning  of  the  name  ;  and 
1  great  Priest  in  thonght,  word,  and  deed,  in  the  whole 
career  of  his  life,  and  in  the  monld  of  his  whole  being. 
Pie  died  the  death  of  the  just,  making  a  worthy  and 
proportionate  end  to  a  course  so  great. 

"  We  have  lost  a  Friend,  a  Father,  and  a  Pastor, 
whose  memory  will  be  with  us  while  life  lasts.  As 
one  who  knew  him  well,  said  well  of  him,  '  We  are 
all  lowered  by  his  loss.'  We  have  all  lost  somewhat 
which  was  our  support,  our  strength,  our  guidance, 
our  pattern,  and  our  pride.  We  have  lost  him  who, 
in  the  face  of  this  great  people,  worthily  represented 
the  greatness  and  the  majesty  of  the  Universal  Church. 
He  has  fallen  asleep  in  the  midst  of  the  generous, 
kindly,  just,  noble-hearted  sympathy  of  the  people, 
the  public  men,  the  public  voices  of  England  ;  a  great 
l)eople,  strong  and  bold  in  its  warfare,  but  humane, 
chivalrous  and  Christian  to  the  antagonists  who  are 
Avorthy  to  contend  with  it.  He  is  gone,  but  he  has 
left  behind  him  in  our  memories  a  long  line  of  histori- 
cal pictures,  traced  in  the  light  of  other  daj^s  upon  a 
field  which  will  retain  its  colours  fresh  and  vivid  for 
ever.  Some  of  you  remember  him  as  the  companion 
of  your  boyhood,  upon  the  bare  hills  of  Durham  ; 
some  in  the  early  morning  of  his  life,  in  the  Sanctu- 
aries of  Rome  :  some  see  before  them  now  his  slender, 
stooping  form,  on  a  bright  winter's  day,  walking  to 
the  Festival  of  S.   Agnes,  out   of  the   walls:  some 


336  The  Pathetic  Part. 

again,  draw  up  to  the  full  stature  of  his  manhood 
rising  above  the  storm,  and  contending  with  the  calm, 
commanding  voice  of  reason  against  the  momentary 
excitement  of  the  people  of  England.  Some  again 
can  see  him  vested  and  arrayed  as  a  Prince  of  the 
Church  with  the  twelve  Suffragans  of  England  closing 
the  long  i^rocession  which  opened  the  first  Provincial 
Synod  of  Westminster,  after  the  silence  of  thi-ee  hun- 
dred }'eiU's.  Some  will  picture  him  in  the  great  hall 
of  a  Roman  palace  surrounded  by  half  the  Bishops  of 
the  world,  of  every  language  and  of  eveiy  land,  chosen 
by  them  as  their  chief  to  fashion  their  words  in  declar- 
ing to  the  Sovereign  Pontiff",  their  filial  obedience  to 
the  Spiritual  and  Temporal  power  with  which  God 
has  invested  the  Yicar  of  His  Son.  Some  will  see  him 
feeble  in  death,  but  strong  in  faith,  arrayed  as  a  Pon- 
tiff' surrounded  l)y  the  Chapter  of  his  Church,  l)y  word 
and  deed  verifying  the  Apostle's  testimony,  '  I  have 
fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have 
kept  the  faith,'  and  some  will  cherish  above  all  these 
visio^is  of  greatness  and  of  glory,  the  calm,  sweet 
countenance  of  their  best,  fiistest,  friend  and  father, 
l}ing  in  the  dim  light  of  his  chamber,  not  of  death, 
but  of  transit  to  his  crown.  These  things  are  visions, 
1)ut  the}^  are  substance.  '  Transit  gloria  niundi '  as 
the  flax  burns  in  fire.  But  these  things  shall  not  pass 
away.  Bear  him  forth,  Right  Reverend  Fathers  and 
dear  brethren  in  Jesus  Christ — bear  him  forth  to  the 


Peroration,  or  Coxclusiox.  337 

sreeii  burial-jrround  on  the  outskirts  of  this  l)us^• 
wilderness  of  men.  It  was  his  desire  to  die  and  to  ))e 
buried,  not  amid  the  glories  of  Rome^but  iu  the  midst 
of  his  flock,  the  first  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  West- 
minster. Lay  him  in  the  midst  of  that  eailh,  as  a 
shepherd,  in  the  midst  of  his  sheep,  near  to  the  Holy 
Cross,  the  symbol  of  his  life,  work,  and  hope  ;  where 
the  Py;3toi'S  he  has  ordained  will  be  buried  one  by  one 
in  a  circle  round  about  him  in  death,  as  they  laboured 
round  about  him  in  life.  He  will  be  in  the  midst  of 
us  still.  His  name,  his  form,  his  words,  his  patience, 
his  love  of  souls,  to  be  our  law,  our  rebuke,  oin-  con- 
solation. And  yet  not  so  :  it  is  but  the  body  of  this 
deatli  which  you  bear  forth  with  tears  of  loving  vener- 
ation. He  is  not  here.  He  will  not  be  there.  He  is 
already  where  the  Great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep  is 
numl^ering  His  elect,  and  those  who  led  them  to  the 
Fold  of  Eternal  Life.  And  the  hands  which  have  so 
often  blessed  you,  which  anointed  you,  which  fed  you 
with  the  bread  of  Life,  are  already  lifted  up  in  prayer, 
which  never  ceases  day  nor  night  for  you,  one  by  one, 
for  England,  for  the  Church  in  all  the  world." 

Peroration  of  Dr.  JSfewman^s  Sermon — "  God's  Will 
the  End  of  Life.'' 

"The  world  goes  on  from  age  to  age,  but  the  hoi}- 

Angels  and  blessed  Saints  are  always  crying  alas,  alas, 

and  woe,  woe,  over  the  loss  of  vocations,  and  the  dis- 
22 


338  The  Pathetic  Part. 

appointment  of  hopes,  and  the  scorn  of  God's  love, 
and  the  ruin  of  souls.  One  generation  succeeds  an- 
other, and  whenever  they  look  down  upon  earth  from 
their  golden  thrones,  they  see  scarcely  anything  but  a 
multitude  of  guardian  spirits,  downcast  and  sad,  each 
following  his  own  charge,  in  anxiety,  or  in  terror,  or 
.in  despair,  vainly  endeavouring  to  shield  him  from  the 
enemy,  and  failing  because  he  will  not  he  sliielded. 
Times  come  and  go,  and  man  will  not  believe  that  tliat  is 
to  be  which  is  not  yet,  or  that  what  is  now  only  continues 
for  a  season,  and  is  not  eternity.  The  end  is  the  trial ; 
the  world  passes  ;  it  is  but  a  pageant  and  a  scene,  the 
lofcy  palace  crumbles,  the  Ijusy  city  is  mute,  the  ships 
of  Tarshish  have  sped  away.  On  the  heai-t  and  flesh 
death  comes ;  the  veil  is  breaking.  Departing  soul, 
how  hast  thou  used  thy  talents,  thy  opportunities,  the 
light  poured  around  thee,  the  warnings  given  thee,  the 
grace  inspired  into  thee  ?  O  my  Lord  and  Saviour, 
support  me  in  that  hour  in  the  strong  arms  of  Thy 
Saciaments,  and  by  the  fresh  fragrance  of  Thy  consola- 
tions. Let  the  absolving  words  be  said  over  me,  and  the 
holy  oil  sign  and  seal  me,  and  Thy  own  Body  l)e  my 
food,  and  Thy  Blood  my  sprinkling  ;  and  let  sweet  Mary 
breathe  on  me,  and  my  Angel  whisper  peace  to  me,  and 
my  glorious  Saints  and  my  own  dear  Father  smile  on 
me;  that  in  them  all,  and  through  them  all ,  I  may  receive 
the  gift  of  perseverance,  and  die,  as  I  desire  to  live,  in  Thy 
faith,  in  Thy  Ciiurch,  in  Thy  service,  and  in  Thy  love." 


CHAPTER  X. 

FIXAL  PREPAEATION". 

|PON  amving  at  this  point  in  oui"  investiga- 
tion and  having  conducted  the  student 
throuo;h  all  the  stao;es  of  the  remote  and 
proximate  preparation,  as  well  as  of  the  actual 
composition  of  his  discourse,  nothing  now  remains  but 
briefly  to  consider  what  may  be  styled  the  final  prepara- 
tion to  be  undergone  before  the  preacher  can  confidentl}' 
approach  the  delivery  of  his  sermon.  We  may  divide 
this  part  of  our  subject  into  two  sections  : — I.  The 
careful  revision  of  the  written  discourse ;  and,  II. 
The  accurate  committing  of  it  to  memory — without, 
however,  entering  into  the  question  of  Deliveiy, 
properly  so  called,  which  we  purpose  to  consider  fully 
in  a  second  and  future  series  of  this  work. 

SECTION   I. 

CAREFUL    REVISION    OF   THE    ^\TIITTEN    DISCOURSE. 

We  have  taken  it  for  granted  that  the  young  preacher 
will  T^Tite  at  least  a  considerable  number  of  his  sermons, 


340  Final  Preparation. 

jind  that  he  will  do  so  with  jyreat  care  and  dilisrent 
attention.  In  order,  however,  that  his  success  may 
be  perfect,  and  the  fruit  of  his  labours  permanent,  there 
is  yet  another  stage  to  be  undergone  in  his  preparation, 
even  after  the  happy  and  felicitous  completion  of  his 
written  discoui-se,  and  this  is  a  careful  revision  and 
coiTection  of  his  composition. 

His  lirst  essay,  no  matter  how  happy  it  may  have 
been,  will  necessarily  be  full  of  imperfections,  and 
when  the  young  writer  treats  himself  too  tenderly  in 
regard  of  these  imperfections,  he  takes  the  most  eifica- 
ciou^  means  he  could  devise  of  rendering  them  perma- 
nent and  incurable.  He  must,  then,  carefully  revise 
the  first  written  copy  of  his  sermon,  diligently 
correcting  the  construction  and  connection  of  his  sen- 
tences, the  turns  of  thought,  the  figures  of  speech,  and 
whatever  he  may  deem  improper,  incorrect,  or 
contraiy  to  order  and  precision  in  his  expressions. 

Like  the  skilful  painter,  who  is  never  weary  of 
adding  those  finishino;  touches  which  brino;  out  his 
picture  in  all  the  perfection  of  its  beauty,  the  diligent 
writer  is  never  weary  of  adding  those  figures  and  those 
oratorical  touches  which  may  increase  the  effect  of  his 
discourse,  never  weary  of  retrenching  and  remorselessly 
sacrificing  everything  which  may  be  irregular  or  not 
to  the  point — of  supplying  that  which  may  be  want- 
ing— of  transposing  that  which  may  be  out  of  place — 
of  modifying  whatever  may  need  modification  or  cor- 


Final  Preparation.  341 

rection.  Always  supposing  that  he  does  not  interfere 
with,  nor  diminish  the  force  and  freshness  of  his  tirst 
ideas  and  his  original  conceptions,  the  more  he  revises 
his  discourse  the  more  will  the  writer  contribute  to  its 
perfection  and  beauty,  since  each  time  that  he  goes 
over  it  he  is  certain  to  find  something  to  amend,  to 
correct,  or  to  change. 

The  first  revision  at  least  is  essential.  Whilst  com- 
mitting his  discoui-se  to  memory  there  are  many  points 
which  will  occur  to  the  writer  as  requiring  modifica- 
tion, if  not  correction  ;  many  striking  figures  which 
will  add  to  its  beauty,  many  developments  which  will 
increase  its  strength,  arc  certain  to  present  themselves 
to  his  mind,  and  these,  of  course,  must  be  added.  He 
will  also  find  it  most  useful  to  retouch  his  sermon  after 
he  has  delivered  it,  since  it  is  in  the  moment  of  delivery 
that  the  preacher  sees  most  clearly,  as  well  what  is  want- 
ing, as  what  is  most  eftective  and  telling,  in  his  discourse. 
In  fine,  if  he  wish  to  render  his  work  most  perfect  and 
complete,  he  will,  after  some  years  spent  in  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Divine  Word,  read  again  and  revise  the 
productions  of  his  earlier  days. 

When  reflection  and  experience  shall  have  chastened 
and  matured  his  judgment ;  when  that  undue  tender- 
ness for  his  first  productions  which,  perhaps,  dimmed 
his  sight  to  their  imperfections,  shall  have  passed  away; 
when  tlie  warmth  of  the  youthful  imagination,  which 
is  a  very  precious  gift  in  its  own  season,  shall  have  been 


342  Final  Preparation". 

toned  down  by  the  weight  of  growing  years  ;  he  will 
be  better  able  to  hold  the  scales  with  an  impartial 
Iiand,  and  to  define  the  limits  between  what  is  pleasing 
and  what  is  useful,  between  what  is  calculated  to  flatter 
the  ear  and  what  is  potent  to  influence  the  will  and 
move  the  heart  to  better  and  holier  thinos. 

In  this  way,  the  sermons  which  he  composed  with  so 
much  diligence  and  care,  with  so  much  warmth  and 
earnestness,  in  the  first  years  of  his  ministry,  will  be 
equally  useful  to  him  as  time  rolls  on,  and  he  becomes 
less  disposed  for,  or  less  able  to  undertake,  the  labour 
of  written  composition.  Nay,  they  will  become  still 
more  useful,  since,  to  the  warmth  of  the  youthful  imur 
gination  which  sparkles  in  their  pages,  and  to  the  sub- 
stantial correctness  of  the  doctrine  and  of  the  instruc- 
tion which  they  contain,  he  will  be  able  to  add  that 
supereminent  quality  and  element  of  success  which  can 
l:>e  gained  in  no  other  way,  the  experience  and  the 
power  of  practical  application  which  are  acquired  by 
long  years  of  hard  work  and  meritorious  sei-vice  in  the 
cultivation  of  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord. 

.     .     .     .     Carmen  reprehendite,  quod  non 
Malta  dies  et  viulta  litura  coercuit  atque 
Prasectum  decies  non  castigavit  ad  unguem. 

Nor  let  the  young  ecclesiastic  be  terrified  from 
inidei-taking  this  revision  of  his  sermons  by  the  thought 
that  it  is  tedious,  painful,  and  laborious.  Let  him 
rather  remember  that  it  is  this  veiy  lal)our  which,  if 


Final  Preparation.  343 

he  have  the  conraa'c  to  uiKlcitjike  it,  is  the  surest 
guarantee  of  his  success.  If  he  be  valiant  enough  to 
conquer  these  first  difficulties,  the  habit  of  writing 
quickly  and  well  will  be  the  certain  fruit  of  his  victoiy. 
"  I  prescribe  to  those  who  conniience  to  write,"  says 
Quintilian,  "slowness  and  solicitude  in  composing."' 
It  is  essential  to  begin  by  writing  as  well  as  possible : 
facility  will  arise  from  habit.  No  man  will  ever  learn 
how  to  write  well  by  writing  quickly  ;  but,  in  learning 
how  to  write  well,  he  will  in  the  end  learn  how  to 
write  quickly.  Gito  scribendo  non  fit  id  hem  scriba- 
tur :  bene  scribendo  fit  ut  cito*  Such  has  ever  been 
the  practice  of  the  greatest  writers  in  every  depart- 
ment of  literature.  Such,  jis  we  learn  from  their  own 
testimony,  has  been  the  constant  practice  of  those 
illustrious  pulpit  orators  who  are  of  necessity  the 
models  whom  the  young  preacher  is  bound  to  place 
before  his  eyes,  in  whose  footsteps  he  is  bound  to  walk, 
with  an  appreciative  admiration  of  their  peifections 
with  a  diligent  and  laborious  employment  of  those 
means  alike  indispensable  to  them  and  to  him,  for  the 
attainment  of  that  excellence  which  they  acquired  in 
such  an  eminent  degree,  and  to  which  he  aspires  with 
such  a  laudable  ambition — the  ambition  of  employing 
it  to  the  greater  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of 
immortal  souls. 

*  Lib.  X,  5. 


344  FiiifAL  Preparation. 


SECTION   II. 

NECESSITY     AND     MANNER    OF     COMMITTING    THE    DI& 
COURSE  TO  MEMORY. 

The  sermon  having  been  accurately  composed  and 
carefully  revised,  nothing  remains,  in  order  that  the 
preacher  may  ascend  the  pulpit  with  confidence  and 
ease,  but  the  perfect  and  expedite  "  possession  "  ol"  it. 
In  other  words,  he  must  possess  what  he  has  composed, 
if  not  memoriter,  at  least  so  completely,  and  with  such 
thorough  confidence,  as  will  enable  him  to  deliver  it 
with  ease,  with  fluency,  and  Mdth  as  near  an  approxi- 
mation as  is  jDOssible  under  the  circumstances  to  those 
qualities  which  constitute  the  special  attraction  of  the 
extempore  sermon. 

There  are  some  young  preachers  who,  especially  in 
the  commencement  of  their  career,  are  so  timid,  so 
nervous,  and  have  such  little  command  of  language, 
as  not  to  be  able  to  utter  a  single  sentence  unless  they 
have  previously  composed  it.  In  this  painful  position, 
they  are  constrained  either  to  content  themselves  with 
reading  from  the  pulpit  the  sermon  which  they  have 
written,  or  to  undergo  the  drudgery  of  committing  it, 
word  by  word,  sentence  by  sentence,  to  memory. 

Now,  in  no  sense  of  the  word,  can  reading  be  called 
preacJiing.  A  sermon  is  of  its  very  nature,  as  has 
been  already  shown,  a  persuasive   oration.      In  real 


Final  Preparation.  345 

prciifliiug,  one  mtiii  speaks  to  another.  From  the 
depths  of  his  own  heart,  the  speaker,  in  warm,  earnest, 
and,  in  a  certain  sense,  spontaneous  language,  per- 
suades, enti-eats,  and  exhorts  his  hearer  to  adopt  and 
embrace  those  views,  and  that  line  of  conduct,  which 
are  thus  urged  upon  him.  The  sermon  which  is 
Avritten  and  delivered  memoritev,  is  more  or  less  perfect 
in  proportion  as  it  approaches,  more  or  less  closeh^,  to 
this  idea  of  a  pei-suasive  oration.  A  sermon  which  is 
prepared,  at  least  substantially,  before  delivery,  as 
every  sermon  woilhy  of  the  name  ought  to  Ije  pre- 
l^ared,  may  be  made  to  possess  most  of  the  good 
qualities  of  the  extempore  discourse,  without  its  defects. 
The  sermon  which  is  merely  read  from  a  paper  never 
has  been,  and  never  will  be,  anything  more  than  a 
piece  of  reading.  Such  a  performance  never  has  been, 
and  never  will  be,  made  to  possess  those  qualities  of 
warmth,  of  earnestness,  of  spontaneity,  and  of  special 
and  varying  application,  which  mark  the  persuasive 
oration,  and  which  are  distinctive  of,  and  indispensable 
to,  a  sermon  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word. 

"  While,  then,  a  preacher  will  find  it  becoming  and 
advisable  to  put  into  writing  any  important  discoui-se 
beforehand,  he  will  find  it  equally  a  point  of  propriety 
and  expedience  not  to  read  it  in  the  pulpit.  I  am  not 
of  coui-se  denying  his  right  to  use  a  manuscript  if  he 
wishes  ;  but  he  will  do  well  to  conceal  it,  as  far  as  he 
can,  or,  which  is  the  most  effectual  concealment,  what- 


346  FiKAL  Peepakation. 

ever  be  its  counterbalancing  disadvantages,  to  get  it 
mainly  by  heart.  To  conceal  it,  indeed,  in  one  wa}^  or 
other,  will  be  his  natural  impulse  ;  and  this  very  cir- 
cumstance seems  to  show  us  that  to  read  a  sermon 
needs  an  apology.  For,  why  should  he  get  it  by  heart, 
or  conceal  his  use  of  it,  miless  he  felt  that  it  was  more 
natural,  more  decorous,  to  do  without  it  ?  And  so 
again,  if  he  emploj^s  a  manuscript,  the  more  he  appeai-s 
to  dispense  with  it,  the  more  he  looks  off  from  it,  and 
directly  addresses  his  audience,  the  more  will  he  be 
considered  to  preach  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
more  will  he  be  judged  to  come  shcni  of  preaching, 
the  more  sednlous  he  is  in  following  his  manuscript 
line  after  line,  and  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  makes  it 
clear  that  he  has  got  it  safely  before  him.  What  is 
this  but  a  popidar  testimony  to  the  fact  that  preaching 
is  not  reading,  and  reading  is  not  preaching  ?"* 

We  take  it,  therefore,  for  granted,  that  the  young 
preacher  will  not  attempt  to  read  his  discourse.  But, 
what  then  is  he  to  do  in  those  tirst  days  of  his  ministiy, 
when  he  is  too  nervous  to  trust  himself  to  deliver  one 
really  extempore  sentence,  or,  when  he  may  be  unable 
to  speak  without  the  most  accurate  preparation. 

There  is  no  resource  for  him,  during  this  time  of 

probation,  but  to  commit  his  sermon  to  memory  so 

perfectly  that  nothing  may  be  able  to  discompose  him 

at  the  moment  of  delivery.     There  is  nothing  which 

*  University  Preaching. 


FlKAL   PREPARATIOIsr.  347 

gives  so  much  contidonce  to  a  young  and  nervous 
preacher  as  the  fact  of  being  thoroughly  master  of  his 
subject.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  nothing  so  power- 
fully calculated  to  embarrass  and  throw  him  into  con- 
fusion, as  an  imperfect  "possession"  of  the  discourse 
which  he  intends  to  deliver. 

Unable,  either  from  nervousness,  timidity,  or  want 
of  practice  and  experience,  to  preach  extempore,  and 
having:  ueo-lected  to  commit  the  discourse  which  he  has 
written  to  memory  perfectly,  he  is  certain  to  break 
down.  He  commences  well,  but,  after  a  short  time, 
he  begins  to  hesitate,  to  stammer,  to  repeat  himself, 
and  probably  ends  by  taking  his  manuscript  from  his 
breast  and  reading  the  remainder  of  his  discourse. 
Even  though  he  should  not  break  down  so  completely 
as  this,  his  mind  will  be  so  preoccupied  with  the  mere 
vecoUecting  of  the  words  of  his  discoui-se,  as  to  render 
his  delivery  cold  and  uninteresting  to  the  last  degree. 

This  preoccupation  of  mind  extinguishes  all  fervour 
and  unction,  renders  his  action,  if  he  employs  any  at 
all,  constrained  and  stiff,  and  even  deprives  his  voice 
of  its  natural  inflections.  He  stands  before  his  audience 
merely  in  the  light  of  a  scholar  who  is  repeating  a 
lesson  which  he  has  learnt  very  badly.  He  com- 
promises the  dignity  of  his  ministry  ;  and  the  intrinsic 
merit  of  his  discourse,  no  matter  how  great  it  may  be, 
is  totally  overlooked  and  forgotten  in  the  badness  of 
his  delivery. 


348  FiXAL  PrepaKxVtion. 

Tliere  is  no  way  of  meeting  these  veiy  serious  draw- 
backs to  anything  like  success  in  our  ministry,  except 
by  committing,  accurately  and  literall}^  to  memory 
that  discourse  which  we  have  composed  carefully,  A 
sermon  well-committed  and  thoroughly  possessed, 
although  it  may  be  of  merely  average  merit,  Avill 
appear  good  ;  and,  if  it  be  really  good,  it  will  appear 
excellent.  It  is  related  of  Massillon,  that,  being  asked 
one  day  which  of  his  sermons  he  considered  the  best, 
he  answered,  "  that  which  I  knew  the  best."  And 
with  perfect  justice  ! 

We  have  sufficiently  explained  the  inconveniences 
under  which  the  preacher  who  delivers  a  discourse 
memoriter^  almost  inevitably  labours  ;  we  have  also 
shown,  that  the  more  closely  such  a  discourse  can  be 
made  to  parfake  of  those  qualities  which  constitute  the 
special  charm  of  the  extempore  sermon,  the  more 
nearly  it  will  approach  to  perfection.  But,  it  is  evident, 
that  the  freedom  of  action,  the  warmth,  energy,  and 
unction,  which  characterize  the  extempore  discourse, 
cannot  be  attained,  in  any  measure  or  degree,  by  him 
who  delivers  his  sermon  memoritei\  unless  he 
"possess"  it  perfectly  and  imperturbably.  It  is 
equally  evident,  that  the  more  perfectly  he  "  possesses  " 
it  the  more  thoroughly  he  will  be  able  to  throw  off 
all  unpleasant  stiffness  and  restraint ;  the  more  nearly 
he  will  be  able  to  approach  the  ease,  facility,  and 
grace,  which  mark  the  accomplished  orator  ;  the  more 


J'lNAL  Preparation.  349 

o;i*iily  he  wall  be  able  to  give  scope  and  play  to  the 
inspirations  of  that  zeal,  and  the  niovenicuts  of  that 
nnction,  which  are  the  special  prerogatives  of  the 
Christian  preacher. 

Such  is  the  mcthed,  and  it  is  in  truth  a  laborious 
(Mie,  which  most  young  beginners  will  find  it  necessary 
to  adopt.  In  some  circumstances,  and  for  a  certain 
length  of  time,  it  would  seem  to  be  essential.  It  re- 
quires much  time,  much  study,  and  great  courage,  in 
order  to  enable  the  yoimg  preacher  to  overcome  the 
weanness  and  disgust  which  are  almost  inseparable 
from  it ;  and  this  is  the  first  great  inconvenience  under 
which  it  labours. 

In  the  second  place,  the  preacher  who  is  a  slave  to 
mere  words,  is  almost  certain  to  break  down  some 
time  or  other,  no  matter  hoAV  well  he  may  have  com- 
mitted his  sermon  to  memory.  A  sudden  distraction, 
the  forgetting  of  a  single  word,  will  cause  him  to  lose 
the  thread  of  his  discourse,  and  thus  become  inextri- 
cably embarrassed  and  confused. 

Thirdly,  as  we  have  already  sufficiently  shown,  the 
necessity  of  adhering  slavishly  to  the  exact  words  of  a 
written  discourse  is  one  of  the  greatest  obstacles  to  a 
warm,  earnest,  and  natural  delivery.  In  such  circum- 
stances the  preacher  becomes  an  orator  who  declaims, 
a  scholar  who  recites  a  task,  rather  than  a  man  who 
gives  spontaneous  utterance  to  the  convictions  of  his 
mind  and  heart.      The  very  constraint  of  his  action, 


350  Final  Pkepaeatiojst. 

the  very  look  of  his  eyes,  betrays  that  it  is  his  memory 
rather  than  his  intellect^  which  is  at  work. 

Lastly,  and  this  is  perhaps  the  most  formidable 
objection  Avhich  can  be  advanced  against  this  practice, 
the  man  who  simply  recites  his  discourse  verbatim 
from  memory,  who  cannot  say  a  word  which  he  has 
not  previously  written,  is  altogether  unable  to  follow 
those  inspirations  which  the  Spirit  of  God  may  impart 
to  him,  during  the  course  of  his  sermon.  Still  less 
can  he  modify  his  discourse  according  to  those  circum- 
stances which  may  present  themselves,  and  which  he 
could  not  have  foreseen  ;  neither  can  he  vary  and 
adapt  his  language  to  the  capacity  of  his  special 
audience.  St.  Liguori  makes  some  remarks  on  this 
subject  which  are  most  practical  and  worthy  of  deep 
consideration.  "T^e^kind  of  preachers,"  he  says, 
"  carry  their  discourses  in  their  memorj^,  and,  Avhether 
they  speak  to  the  ignorant  or  the  learned,  they  will  not 
change  a  single  word.  They  perceive  that  their 
audience  do  not  comprehend  them.  No  matter  :  they 
will  give  no  new  developement,  no  further  explana- 
tion. They  Avill  clear  up  no  pouit,  and  present  it 
under  different  and  more  intelligible  aspects.  They 
will  confine  themselves  to  repeating  the  lesson  which 
they  have  learned." 

Hence,  although  this  "  slavery  of  words  "  may  be 
absolutely  necessary  for  some  time  in  the  commence- 
ment, and,  although  much  may  be  done  to  modify,  if 


Final  Preparation.  351 

not  altogether  remove  the  inconveniences  which  result 
from  the  system,  neveilheless,  in  view  of  these  incon- 
veniences and  others  to  which  it  is  not  necessary  to 
make  more  minute  reference,  the  young  preacher  will 
endeavour,  prudently  and  by  degrees,  to  free  himself 
from  its  trammels. 

The  faculty  of  memory,  under  an  oratorical  point 
of  view,  may  be  divided  into  a  memoiy  of  words,  and 
a  memory  of  ideas.  The  memory  of  words  is  that 
which  retains  every  syllable  and  every  phrase,  precisely 
and  literally,  as  it  w^as  written.  The  memory  of  ideas 
is  that  which  seeks  to  retain  the  sense,  the  substance, 
the  foundation  and  connection  of  that  which  we  have 
read  or  written,  without  chaining  itself  down  to  the 
mechanical  and  literal  recollection  of  every  individual 
word  or  phrase.  Or,  in  other  terms,  whilst  the  memoiy 
of  words  is  directed  to  tlie  retaining  of  the  ijmssima 
verba  of  a  discoui'se,  the  memory  of  ideas  is  directed 
to,  and  is  satisfied  with,  the  retaining  of  the  sense  and 
substance  of  it. 

With  this  preliminary  explanation,  we  venture,  then, 
to  assert,  that  the  young  preacher  should  endeavour, 
prudently,  and  in  a  certain  degree  insensibly,  to  abandon 
the  memor}^  of  words  in  order  to  cultivate  and  attach 
himself  to  the  memory  of  ideas.  It  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  point  out  the  reasons  which  should  induce  him 
to  adopt  this  latter  course.  The  great  saving  of  time 
and  labour  ;  the  increased  warmth,  energy,  and  feiTOur 


353  Final  Prepaeation. 

of  delivery  ;  the  power  of  adapting  and  modifying 
his  discourse  to  the  different  wants,  the  special  capacity 
or  needs  of  his  flock,  are  motives  sufficiently  strong 
and  powerful.  To  the  opinion  of  Quintilian,  who  thus 
Avrites,  Abominanda  hcec  infelicitaft,  quad  et  cursum 
dicendi  refrmnat  et  calorem  cogitationis  extinguit : 
miser  enim  et  jwwper  orator  est,  qui  mdlum  verbum 
aequo  animo perdere potest*  we  may  add  the  counsel 
of  St.  Augustine,  who  impresses  upon  the  preacher  the 
necessity  of  ascertaining  from  the  movements  of  their 
body,  and  the  expression  of  their  countenance,  whether 
his  audience  comprehend  him  or  not,  and  whether  they 
are  moved  or  not  b}^  his  discourse.  If  he  thus  discover 
that  they  do  not  understand  him,  or  are  not  aftected 
by  what  he  advances,  he  must,  according  to  the  advice 
of  this  great  master  of  Sacred  Eloquence,  present  his 
subject  to  them  in  other  shapes  and  from  other  points 
of  view,  until  he  gains  his  end,  a  result  which,  the 
holy  doctor  wisely  adds,  is  altogether  out  of  the  reach 
of  him  who  is  unal^le  to  advance  a  step  beyond  the 
words  which  he  has  committed  to  memoiy.f 

Whilst,  however,  we  counsel  the  young  preacher  to 
labour  to  acquire  such  modest  confidence  in  himself, 
and  such  prudent  self-possession,  as  will  enalile  him 
gradually  to  throw  aside  the  "  slavery  of  words,"  it  is 
equally  necessaiy  to  put  him  upon  his  guard  against 
any  undue  reliance  upon  his  powers,  before  they  are 

*  Lib.  V.  iii.  t  De  Doct,.  Christ.,  lib.  iv,  25. 


Final  PiiEPAUAxioN.  35n 

sufficiently  developed  and  matured.  In  other  words, 
he  must  not  attempt  to  run  before  he  knows  how  to 
walk. 

If,  in  order  to  discharge  his  dut}^  with  credit  to  the 
church  and  himself,  he  find  it  necessaiy,  even  for 
several  years,  to  undergo  the  labour  of  writing  his 
sermons  and  committing  them  verbatim  to  memory, 
he  must  not  slirink  from  it,  or  give  up  his  task  in 
weariness  and  disgust.  It  is  his  only  chance  of  ulti- 
mate success,  but  that  ultimate  success  is  certain  if  he 
have  only  courage  enough  to  undergo  the  labour, 
which  is  necessary  and  iudispensalile  to  its  attainment. 
And,  at  the  very  worst,  what  w^ill  his  labour  be  if 
compared  to  that  which  is  undergone  by  the  barristei', 
for  an  end  and  with  motives  which  surely  cannot  be 
put  in  comparison  wuth  those  which  animate  the  true 
priest  of  God. 

As,  in  course  of  time,  his  knowledge  becomes  more 

deep,  ready,  and  expedite,  w^hilst  his  self-possession 

and  facility  of  speaking  are  increased  and  developed 

liy  every  succeeding  appearance  which  he  makes  in 

public,  he  will  1)e  a])le  to  satisfy',  not  only  himself,  but 

what  is  of  much  greater  importance,  the  obligations 

of  his  sacred  calling,  without  the  lal^our  of  A\Titing  his 

discourse  from  end  to  end,  and  of  committing  it,  no 

less  laboriously,  to  memory.     It  will  then  be  sufficient 

for  him  to  prepare  his  discourse  substantialhj^  accord- 

inu"  to  the  method  explained  at  p.   114.     Instead  of 
■Z'6 


354  Final  PREPAKATioisr. 

being  tied  clo^vii  to  the  memory  of  words,  he  can 
reasonably  be  satisfied  with  the  memory  of  ideas  ;  and, 
so,  with  glory  to  God  and  credit  to  himself,  discharge 
the  obligation  which  the  patient  labour  of  his  early 
years  will  thus  render  easy  to  himself;  and  useful  to 
his  people. 

But,  to  repeat  what  we  have  already  so  frequently 
advanced,  let  him  neglect  this  prelimijiary  but  essential 
labour,  and  growing  years  in  the  ministry  will  only 
confirm  him  in  his  imperfections,  without  rendering 
the  real  toil  of  preparation  one  degree  less  heavy,  or 
less  painful.  Having  never  laid  the  foimdatiou,  it  will 
be  little  wonder  if  he  never  succeed  in  raising  the 
edifice.  It  will  be  less  wonder  still,  if,  after  a  time, 
he  give  up  the  pretence  of  preparing  his  sermons  at 
all  ;  if  he  trust  to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment  for 
tlie  word  which  will  not  be  at  hand  when  he  requires 
it — for  the  idea  which  will  never  be  ready  ;  if  he  end 
in  becoming  a  declaimer  of  empty,  vapid,  meaningless 
and  useless  platitudes,  instead  of  a  preacher  of  the 
Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ — that  Gospel  which, 
in  the  mouth  of  the  true  priest,  is  more  living,  effectual, 
and  piercing,  than  a  two-edged  sword. 

We  may  conclude  this  portion  of  our  subject  with 
the  remark,  that  there  is  no  feculty  which  is  more 
improvable  than  that  of  memory.  It  may  be  developed 
to  a  prodigious  extent  by  discreet  and  daily  exercise. 
Nothinir  conduces  so  much  to  ease  and  facility  in  com- 


Final  Prepakatiois".  355 

initting  a  discoiii-se  to  meinor}'  as  a  methodical  and 
Avell  ordered  style  of  composition,  where  nothing  is 
isolated,  where  the  ideas  follow  and  beget  one  another, 
Avhcre  everything  is  in  its  proper  place.  When  his 
discourse  is  drawn  up  in  this  methodical  and  well- 
ordered  manner,  the  j)reacher  will  hav^e  no  difficulty 
in  "  possessing  "  it,  at  least  substantially,  from  the  ex- 
ordium to  the  conclnsiou.  There  is  no  time  so  favor- 
able for  committing  a  discourse  to  memor}^  as  the 
silence  of  the  night.  In  these  moments  of  stillness 
and  quiet,  nature  perfects  and  finishes  the  work  which 
memory  began.  Above  all  things,  when  it  is  necessary 
to  call  upon  the  memory  to  make  a  vigorous  eflbrt,  the 
head  must  be  diseniiaoed  and  free  from  troublesome 
and  distracting  thoughts.  These  are  some  of  the 
principal  means  Avhich  the  preacher  will  find  useful  on 
this  matter,  and  they  are  equally  applicable  to  the 
memory  of  words,  and  to  the  memoiy  of  ideas. 

With  these  precautions,  the  young  preacher  can 
scarcely  fail  or  utterly  break  down  in  his  discourse. 
Spite,  however,  of  all  his  care,  his  memory  may  betray 
him  on  some  occasion  or  other.  If  he  merely  forget 
some  certain  words,  let  him  supply  them  as  best  he  can 
at  the  moment.  If  it  be  some  text  or  phrase  which 
he  cannot  recall,  let  him  pass  it  over.  If  the  whole 
thread  of  his  argument  seem  to  disappear,  let  him  pass 
on,  as  smoothly,  and  with  as  little  embarrassment  as  is 
possible  under  the  circumstances,  to  the  next  point  of  his 


35G  FlISTAL   PfiEPAKATIOlSr. 

discourse.  The  first  and  most  essential  thing  is,  not  to 
stop  ;  and  the  next  is  to  hide  his  confusion  as  perfectly  as 
he  is  able.  The  danger  of  any  such  accident  as  th is  will 
be  diminished  each  time  that  he  discharges  the  duty 
of  preaching.  Let  him,  before  entering  the  pulpit,  ho. 
quite  certain  that  he  has  something  definite  and  tleavhj 
marked  out  to  say,  and  something  which  is  worth  say- 
ing. Let  him  have,  at  least,  its  division,  its  transitions, 
its  leading  arguments,  and  its  principal  figures,  thus 
clearly  and  definitely  before  his  mind  when  he  enters 
the  pulpit,  and  it  will  be  hard,  indeed,  if  he  cannot 
find  words  in  which  to  express  the  ideas  which  he  has 
already  conceived :  if  he  cannot  find  language,  not 
merely  correct,  but  strong,  earnest,  and  vigorous,  in 
which  to  clothe  those  thoughts  which  are  at  once  the 
creation  of  an  intellect  which  knows  how  to  conceive, 
and  of  a  heart  which  knows  how  to  feel,  and  become 
penetrated  with  a  subject  which  is  undertaken  at  the 
command  of  God,  and  for  the  greater  glory  of  His 
holy  name. 


CHAPTER  XT. 

STYLE  OP  THE  PULPIT. 

N  the  introductory  chapter  of  this  investi- 
gation into  the  nature  of  the  Theoiy  and 

Practice  of  Preaching,  we  advanced  the 

proposition  that  the  means  by  which  the 
sacred  orator  proposes  to  himself  to  obtain  his  end  is, 
by  Instructing,  by  Pleasing,  and  by  Moving  his  flock, 
since  these  constitute  the  three-fold  element  of  the 
power  by  which  the  rhetorician  acts  upon  the  souls  of 
his  fellow-men,  and  acquires  his  influence  over  them. 
Veritas  pateat,  Veritas  placeat,  Veritas  moveat.  We 
cannot,  probably,  more  usefully  conclude  this  portion 
of  oiu*  enquir}^  than  by  a  brief  resume  of  these  prin- 
ciples, and  of  the  manner  in  which  this  three-fold 
element  of  persuasion  has  been  applied  to  our  subject, 
with  some  practical  reflections  on  the  whole  matter  in 
its  relation  to  the  style  of  the  pulpit.  In  this,  the 
First  Series  of  the  Work,  our  object  has  been  to  in- 
vestigate and  elucidate  the  "Theory"  of  Preaching. 
In  a  future  series  we  hope  to  consider  the  "  Practice" 
of  Preaching:. 


358  Style  of  the  Pulpit. 

Vei'tias  pateat,  Veritas  placeat,  Veritas  moveat. 
Whilst  to  instruct,  to  please,  and  to  move,  most  certainly 
constitute  the  three-fold  element  of  the  rhetorician's 
power,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  the  presence 
of  each  element  is  not  necessarily  required  in  every 
case  in  ordei;  that  a  man  may  be  eloquent.  True  elo- 
quence is  the  art  of  acting  upon,  and  influencing  our 
fellow-men,  through  the  expression  of  our  own  thoughts 
and  feelings.  Now,  there  may  be  circumstances  in 
which  we  shall  most  fully  gain  this  end  ]>y  merel}' 
instructing  and  proving,  and  in  these  circiaustances, 
we  shall  be  eloquent  although  we  may  not  move.  For 
the  same  reason,  if  we  are  called  upon  to  speak  in 
circumstances  where  nothing  more  is  required  from  us 
than  to  move,  we  shall  be  eloquent  when  we  succeed 
in  moving,  although  we  may  have  paid  no  attention 
to  instruction. 

However,  although  the  presence  of  each  of  these 
three  elements  may  not  be  always  essential,  as  a 
general  rule  they  will  be  found,  to  some  extent  at  least, 
in  every  complete  and  well-ordered  discourse,  and  in 
the  operations  to  which  such  a  composition  is  sub- 
mitted in  the  coui-se  of  its  preparation.  In  the  "  lu- 
vention  "  we  find  each  of  these  elements,  since,  as  a 
general  rule,  the  preacher,  in  tlie  invention  of  his 
discourse,  proposes  to  himself  to  teach,  to  please,  and 
to  move.  We  find  them  equally  in  the  "  Disposition  " 
or    arrangement,    since,    in    his    "  Exordium,"    the 


Style  of  the   Pulpit.  359 

pveacher  seeks  to  plcti.sc  his  hearers  and  render  them 
aUenlos,  henevolos,  et  docilefi :  hi  the  "  Body  of  the 
Discourse  "  he  endeavours  to  instruct,  to  teach,  and  to 
prove  ;  and  in  the  "  Peroration  "  he  aims  at  moving 
the  heart  and  influencing  the  will. 

In  these  pages  we  have  considered  at  some  length, 
and  developed  pretty  fully,  the  action  of  what  is  tech- 
nically called  the  logical  element —  Veritas  j^ateat  ; 
since  the  chapter  which  treats  of  the  "  Body  of  the 
Discourse"  has  been  devoted  almost  exclusively  to 
this  subject.  We  have  also  endeavored  to  investigate 
the  nature,  to  show  the  necessity,  and  explain  the 
manner,  of  employing  the  esthetic,  or  moving  element 
— Ventas  moveat.  We  have  to  some  extent,  less  fully 
and  less  directly,  treated  of  what  Aristotle  names  the 
political  element  of  eloquence,  that  element  by  wliich 
the  orator  gains  the  good  will  of  his  hearers,  and 
renders  them  well-disposed  towards  him — Veritas 
placeat.  We  deemed  it  advisable  to  defer  the  more 
exact  consideration  of  this  element,  and  of  the  true 
position  w^iich  it  holds  in  eloquence,  to  this  place  ; 
since,  although  there  is  no  controversy  amongst  writers 
as  to  the  necessity  of  instructing  and  of  moving,  there 
is  at  least  some  apparent  disagreement  as  to  the  law- 
fulness or  need  of  seeking  to  please. 

Before  w^e  proceed  to  lay  down  any  propositions  on 
this  subject,  it  is  evident  that  we  must  have  come  to  an 
understanding  about  our  first  principles  and  definitions. 


360  Style  of  the   PuLPif. 

Before  we  assert  that  the  preacher  is  at  liberty,  or  is 
bound,  to  seek  to  please  his  audience,  or  vict-v&'sa, 
we  must  clearly  lay  down  what  we  understand  by 
the  term,  to  please,  as  applied  to  the  orator.  In 
many  passages  of  his  works,  Cicero  seems  to  understand 
by  the  art  of  pleasing  nothing  more  than  the  pleasant 
balancing  of  one's  periods,  and  the  harmonious  cadence 
of  our  sentences.  But,  it  is  pretty  evident,  that  the 
art  of  pleasing,  as  applied  to  the  sacred  orator,  can 
never  consist  in  this.  He  may  please  without  any  such 
power  of  balancing  his  periods,  without  any  such 
facility  in  securing  an  harmonious  cadence  to  his  sen- 
tences. He  may  fail  to  please,  although  he  possess 
these  qualities  in  all  their  perfection.  Nay,  he  may 
fail  to  please  simply  on  this  account.  Fenelon  p  his 
Dialogue  sur  Feloquence,  seeming  to  confound  matters 
which  are  very  distinct,  whilst  he  bestows  all  possible 
commendation  upon  those  qualities  of  a  discourse  which 
directly  tend  to  persuasion,  rejects  the  opinion  of  those 
who  contend  that  the  preacher,  in  view  of  his  special 
end,  is  also  bound  to  seek  to  please.  For  the  art  of 
pleasing  he  seems  to  substitute  the  art  of  description, 
or,  of  word-painting  :  a  quality  the  necessity  of  which 
we  have  already  sufficiently  established  as  a  means,  but 
not  as  the  art  itself,  of  pleasing,  or  as  its  substitute. 

Whilst,  therefore,  we  embrace  the  opinion  of  St. 
Augustine  that  the  sacred  orator  is  bound,  not  only  to 
instruct  and  to  move,  but  to  please,  we  also  adopt  the 


Style  of  the   Pulpit.  3G1 

term  in  that  broad  and  true  signification  in  Avliich  be 
employs  it ;  and  Ave  assert  that  tbe  art  of  pleasing,  as 
applied  to  tbe  preacber,  is  neitber  more  nor  less  tban 
tbe  art  of  causing  bimself  to  be  listened  to  witb 
pleasure,  witb  interest,  and  witb  confidence.  In  otber 
words,  tbe  preacber  must  be  pleasing  to  bis  bearers, 
and  tbus  gain  tbeir  interest  and  confidence,  tbrougb 
tbe  conviction  wbicb  tbey  bave  tbat  be  is  a  good  man, 
tbrougb  tbe  solidity  and  special  fitness  of  tbe  doctrine 
which  he  proposes  to  them,  and  through  the  attractive 
and  engaging  style  of  composition  and  delivery,  in 
which  that  doctrine  is  presented  to  their  notice. 
Hence,  we  assert  tbat  every  preacber  is  bound  to  seek 
to  please,  since,  in  this  sense,  the  art  of  pleasing — the 
Veritas  placeat — is  essential  to  bis  success. 

We  have,  in  the  preceding  pages,  sufficiently  estab- 
lished the  absolute  necessity  under  which  the  preacher 
lies  of  possessing  the  esteem  and  respect  of  bis  hearers, 
and  of  •preaching  a  doctrine  which,  by  its  clearness,  its 
solidity,  and  its  special  adaption  to  their  character,  dis- 
positions and  necessities,  may  be  calculated  not  only  to 
be  useful  to  those  who  listen  to  him,  but  also  thus  to 
conciliate  tbat  good  will ,  esteem  and  respect.  On  these 
points  there  can  be  no  dispute.  But,  it  may  be  fairly 
asked,  to  what  extent  tbe  Christian  preacher  is  at 
liberty,  or  is  bound,  to  despise  the  graces  of  merely 
human  eloquence,  that  he  may  tbus  more  fully  emulate 
the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  folly  of  tbe  Cross  ; 


362  Style  of  the   Pulpit. 

or,  on  the  contraiy,  to  what  extent  it  is  lawful  for  him, 
or  incumbent  upon  him,  to  employ  the  graces  of  lan- 
guage and  the  charms  of  style,  that,  by  their  means, 
he  may  the  more  easily  please  his  hearers,  and  by 
pleasing  them,  gain  them  the  more  readily  and  eftec- 
tively  to  the  love  and  service  of  the  Almighty  God  ? 
And,  on  this  point,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  advance  a 
two-fold  proposition  which  appears  to  contain  the 
views  which  are  at  once  the  most  practical,  the  most 
reasonable,  and  the  most  generally  received,  on  this 
important  subject. 

Whilst  we  are  certain  that  the  preacher  should  not 
seek  to  please  his  hearers  by  addressing  them  in  a  style 
of  affected  elegance,  or  with  strained  eflbrt  after  eflect, 
we  are  equally  confident  that  he  ought,  with  a  view  to 
their  conversion,  to  embellish  the  preaching  of  the 
Divine  Word  with  all  the  charms  of  true  and  solid 
eloquence,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  it  j)leasing  to 
his  audience,  and  by  this  means  more  efficacious  for 
their  conversion. 

It  is  evident  that  the  preacher  who  affects  a  laboured 
elegance  of  style,  or  who  strains  after  mere  empty 
display,  loses  sight,  not  only  of  the  very  end  of  his 
preaching,  but  of  those  who  are  his  masters  and  his 
models  in  this  holy  work. 

J^on  doctor  verbis  servial,  sed  verba  doctori*  is  the 
wise  and  true  principle  of  Eloquence  as  laid  down  by 
*  De  Doct.  Christ,  lib.  iv.,  61. 


Style  of  the   Pulpit.  363 

Si.  Augustine.  The  true  orator  employs  words  Indeed 
to  express  bis  ideas,  but  the  word  is  ever  made  sub- 
servient to  the  idea  ;  whilst  he  who  seelis  to  please  by 
his  affected  elegance  of  style  and  of  composition,  is 
vastly  more  solicitous  about  the  word  than  about  the 
idea  which  it  may  express.  He  thus  not  only  perverts 
the  word  from  its  end,  but  sins  against  good  taste  1)y 
the  manner  in  which  he  employs  it.  The  orator  who 
is  governed  by  good  taste  seeks  to  keep  himself  out  of 
sight,  to  cause  his  hearers  to  forget  the  speaker  in  the 
words  which  he  utters,  and,  as  a  natural  consequence, 
he  conceals  his  art  under  the  simplicity  and  modesty 
of  his  language.  He  is,  and  he  desires  to  appear, 
altogether  absorbed  and  taken  up  with  his  subject. 
But  the  man  who  strains  after  mere  effect,  and  who 
aims  at  mere  elegance  of  style,  acts  in  direct  opposi- 
tion to  this  principle.  Losing  sight  of  the  fact  that 
true  eloquence  is  in  the  thought,  and  not  in  the  mere 
word,  his  whole  care  and  solicitude  are  directed  to  the 
elaboration  of  his  words  and  the  trimming  of  his  sen- 
tences, but  although  he  maj'-  by  this  means  succeed  in 
amusing  for  a  time,  he  Avill  never  reall^^  please,  and 
will  very  soon  begin  to  disgust  his  hearers. 

Such  a  false  style  of  preaching  is  not  only  opposed 
to  good  taste,  but  is  unworthy  of  the  minister  of  the 
Gospel.  The  man  who  preaches  in  this  style  lowers 
himself  to  the  level  of  the  young  rhetorician  whose 
whole  energies  are  directed  to  the  turning  of  a  phrase. 


364  Style  of  the   Pl'lpit. 

He  desTacles  the  Word  of  God  to  the  service  of  human 
eloquence,  instead  of  making  human  eloquence  subser- 
vient to  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  Instead  of  entering 
the  pulpit  absorbed  with  the  great  idea  of  the  dignity 
of  his  mission,  and  penetrated  with  an  intimate  appreci- 
ation of  the  grandeur  of  those  subjects  which  he  is 
privileged  and  commanded  to  preach — the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  salvation  of  immortal  souls,  he  -carries 
with  him,  even  into  the  presence  of  God,  nothing  but 
his  o^vn  narrow  views,  his  own  petty  interests,  and  his 
own  wretched  vanity  and  self-seeking.  The  preacher 
simply  degrades  himself  when,  in  place  of  searching 
the  hearts,  awakening  the  conscience,  and  withdrawing 
them  from  the  sinful  pleasures  of  the  world,  he  pro- 
poses to  himself  to  tickle  the  ears,  and  minister  to  the 
diseased  appetites  of  his  hearers.  It  was  not  thus  that 
St.  Paul  preached,  nor  was  it  by  these  means  that  he 
rendered  the  Gospel  pleasing  even  to  the  educated  and 
fastidious  Corinthians.  It  is  not  by  such  a  style  of 
preaching  as  this  that  the  Christian  orator  is  to  subdue 
his  age,  to  become  the  judge  and  not  the  slave  of  his 
hearers,  to  speak  to  his  audience  as  their  master  and 
not  as  their  servant.  If  he  have  ever  fully  realized 
the  great  idea  of  Pere  MacCarthy  that  the  Christian 
orator  is  not  a  preacher  but  a  converter^  he  will  no 
longer  seek  to  please  the  ear,  l3ut  to  change  the  heart, 
to  cure  the  sick  instead  of  merely  trying  to  amuse  and 
distract  them.     If  he  ever  employ  those  ornaments 


Style  of  the   Pulpit.  365 

which  may  l)ec'onie  his  subject  and  his  style,  ho  avIII 
not  use  them  for  their  own  sake  alone,  but  agreeably 
to  the  counsel  of  St.  Augustine  :  Fertur  imjjeta  suo, 
et  elocutionis  pulchrUudinem,  si  oocurrerit,  vi  rerum 
rupit,  non  cnra  decoris  assumit. 

Nor  can  anything  be  more  prejudicial  to  real  success 
than  this  affected  style  of  preaching.  ]Most  surely 
God  will  never  bless  the  preaching  of  those  who 
preach  themselves,  instead  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him 
crucified  :  and  no  matter  how  elegant  it  may  l)e  in 
composition,  no  matter  how  redolent  of  the  choicest 
flowei-s  of  rhetoric,  the  word  that  does  not  receive  the 
fruitful  l)lessing  of  God,  will  be  barren  and  sterile. 

Looking  at  the  question  from  a  merely  human  point 
of  view,  is  it  not  evident  that  the  preacher  who  bestows 
all  his  attention  upon  the  mere  turn  of  his  phrase,  the 
choice  of  his  expression,  and  the  harmony  of  his 
periods,  will  most  substantiallj^  interfere  with  the  force, 
the  energy,  the  strength,  and  the' freedom' of  his  com- 
position ?  It  becomes  a  conflict  between  the  head  and 
the  heart,  between  the  ideas  to  be  expressed  and  the 
mere  words  in  which  they  are  to  be  clothed,  and  the 
heart  and  the  idciis  are  sacrificed  to  the  intellect  and 
the  words,  which  is  a  perversion  of  all  order  and  of  all 
principle.  Moreover,  in  our  ordinary  congregations, 
liow^  many  are  there  who  comprehend  these  long 
periods,  these  poetical  phrases,  these  far-fetched  meta- 
phoi-s,  these  heaped-iip  epithets,  these  newly-invented 


366  Style  of  the  Pulpit. 

and  fantastic  words  ?  But,  even  supposing  them  to 
be  intelligible,  they  produce  no  fruit,  because,  being 
as  they  are,  the  inspiration  of  the  mei-ely  human  spirit, 
smacking  much  more  of  the  schools  than  of  the 
Gospel,  they  bring  no  grace  to  the  soul,  they  wi-ite  no 
salutary  impressions  upon  the  heart,  they  partake  in 
no  sense  and  in  no  degree  of  the  qualities  and  of  the 
effects  of  that  Divine  "Word  which  is  more  piercing 
than  any  two-edged  sword,  which  reaches  unto  the 
divisions  of  the  soul  and  the  spirit,  and  is  a  discerner 
of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heait. 

No  ;  let  the  young  preacher  be  assured  that  it  is 
not  by  empty  words,  by  affected  elegance  of  style,  by 
mere  figures  of  speech,  that  he  will  lead  his  hearers  to 
the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ ;  that  he  will  gain  his  greatest 
triumphs  over  the  powers  of  sin  and  of  hell.  Let  him 
rather  study  to  imitate  the  examples  which  are  placed 
before  him  in  his  Divine  Master  and  the  Saints.  Who 
could  haver  preacheil  so  eloquently  if  He  had  wished, 
who  could  have  turned  to  such  account  the  graces  of 
st3'le  and  the  charms  of  language,  as  our  Divine  Lord  ? 
Nevertheless,  the  preacher  will  find  nothing  of  this 
kind  in  the  Sermons  of  his  Lord  and  Master.  Elevated 
and  profound  in  thought,  they  are  simple  and  pojDular 
in  expression.  Replete  with  thoughts  and  principles 
of  morality  that  are  worthy  of  the  study  of  the  most 
elevated  intellect,  these  thoughts  and  these  principles 
are  couched  in  lano-uao-e  which  brings  them  home  at 


Style  of  the   Pulpit.  3G7 

once  to  the  mind  and  the  lieai't  of  the  humblest  hearers. 
It  was  thus  that  the  Apostle  of  the  Nations  made 
known  the  will  of  God  to  his  hearers.  Prmdkatio 
mea  non  in  persuasifdlibus  humanoe  saptentioe  verbis. 
Mhil  me  Christus  evangelizare  non  in  sapientia  vcrbi, 
id  nan  evacaetiir  ci'ux  Chrisd*  And  such,  too,  has 
been  the  preaching  and  the  practice  of  all  the  Saints 
of  God  who  have  been  called  upon  to  preach  His 
Holy  Gospel. 

But,  whilst  we  thus  condemn  and  reprobate  that 
affected  style  of  jireaching  which  sacrifices  sense  to 
sound,  which  seeks  to  please  simply  for  the  sake  of 
jDleasing,  we  are  no  less  certain  that  the  preacher  of 
the  Gospel  is  bound,  with  a  view  to  the  conversion  of 
his  people  and  the  becoming  discharge  of  his  duty,  to 
adorn  the  Word  which  he  preaches  with  all  the 
charms  of  a  true  and  solid  eloquence. 

The  truth  of  this  assertion  will  be  sufficiently  estab- 
lished if  we  consider  for  a  moment  the  constitution  of 
the  human  heaii;,  the  respect  which  is  due  to  the 
Word  of  God,  and  the  constant  practice  of  the  greatest 
preachei"s  of  antiquity. 

There  is  amongst  men  an  involuntary  esteem  for  the 
eloquence  which  captivates  their  attention,  enchains 
their  interest,  and  keeps  them  hanging  upon  the  lips 
of  him  who  speaks  with  such  power  and  force.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  is  a  natural  disgust  and  avei"sion 
"  1  Cor.  i  et  ii. 


3G8  Style  of  the   Pulpit. 

to  him  who  speaks  badly.  Now,  all  this  is  doiil)tless 
the  result  of  that  self-love  which  causes  us  to  listen 
with  pleasure  to  those  who,  by  the  correctness  of  their 
language,  and  the  diligence  with  wdiich  they  have 
prepared  themselves,  thus  testify  to  the  esteem  in 
which  they  hold  us,  and  which  causes  us  to  turn  away 
^viih  weary  impatience  and  disgust  from  those  who  do 
not  address  us  in  such  terms  as  we  deem  due  to  our 
position,  education,  etc.  Having  its  foundation  in 
self-love,  no  doubt  this  sentiment  of  the  human  heart 
is  wrong  and  Ijlamable.  No  doul^t  man  ought  not 
allow  himself  to  be  influenced,  nor  his  judgment  to  be 
warped,  by  these  views.  But,  we  must  take  man  as 
he  is,  and  not  as  he  ought  to  be,  and,  therefore,  if  we 
lind  the  heart  of  man  thus  influenced  and  governed, 
if  we  know  that  there  lurks  within  his  soul  this  in- 
voluntar}-  esteem  of  him  who  is  truly  eloquent,  we 
must  avail  ourselves  of  this  influence,  and  of  this  esteem, 
to  turn  him  to  our  purpose  and  our  will ;  we  must 
avail  ourselves  of  his  love  of  eloquence ;  we  must 
strive,  in  our  own  proper  measure  and  degree,  to 
acquire  this  gift  in  all  its  true  and  solid  perfection  ; 
and  this,  not  so  much  for  its  own  sake  alone,  as  that 
l)y  its  means  we  may  please  our  hearers  and  by  pleasing 
them,  render  them  attentive  to  our  instructions,  docile 
and  obedient  to  our  exhortations,  and  thus  convert  and 
gain  them  to  God.  There  is  no  controAcrsy  as  to  the 
necessit}'  of  moving,    but,   as  an  ordinary   rule,  the 


Style  op  the   Pulpit.  300 

preacher  will  hardly  succeed  in  moving  unless  he  is 
also  able  to  please,  and  this  is  evident. 

These  remarlcs,  which  are  true  in  their  application  to 
eloquence  in  general,  acquire  an  additional  force  when 
applied  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel.  And,  here 
again,  we  must  take  men  as  we  find  them.  If  men 
were  all  they  ought  to  be,  they  would  love  the  Gospel, 
with  its  salutary  precepts  and  its  Avholesome  restraints. 
But  the  contrary  is  the  fact.  They  listen  with  unwil- 
lingness and  distaste  to  the  doctrine  which  proposes  to 
them  christian  abneiration  as  one  of  the  hisfhest  and 
most  indispensable  of  their  obligations ;  and,  yet,  we 
must  persuade  them,  not  merely  to  accept  our  teaching 
on  this  point,  but  to  reduce  it  to  practice.  In  order  to 
succeed,  we  shall  certainly  be  under  the  necessity  of 
calling  to  our  aid  every  iissistance  Avhich  can  be  legiti- 
mately employed.  Render  our  doctrine  as  agreeable 
as  we  may,  present  it  in  the  most  attractive  form  that 
we  are  able,  and  there  Avill  still  be  many  who  will  not 
receive  it  from  us !  How,  then,  will  it  be,  if  we  dis- 
gust our  hearers  1)}'  the  roughness  of  our  speech,  the 
uncouthness  of  our  huiguage,  and  the  negligence  of  our 
composition  ?  Let  us  therefore  take  care  that  ^vhilst 
we  avoid  the  Scylla  of  afi'ected  elegance  we  do  not  fall 
into  the  Carybdis  of  uncouth  rusticity.  The  least 
experience  of  the  world,  or  of  the  human  heart,  will 
teach  us  that  the  greater  part  of  men  requiieto  be  won 
to  the  truth  by  the  attr:ictive  dress  and  the  pleasing 


370  Style  of  the  Pulpit. 

style  in  which  it  is  pi'esented  to  them.  lUmn  qui  est 
ddectatione  affectus,  facile  quo  volueris  duces  ■  nemo 
ftectitur  si  moleste  audit. 

It  would  be  easy  to  show,  that  the  very  respect 
which  is  due  to  the  Word  of  God  will  impose  upon 
the  zealous  priest  the  ol>ligation  of  doing  all  that  lies 
in  him  to  present  it  to  his  audience  in  a  proper  and 
becoming  dress ;  in  other  words,  adorned  Avith  all  the 
'.'luunis  of  true  and  solid  eloquence.  Such  has  been 
the  view  which  has  ever  been  held  by  those  who  are 
most  worthy  our  imitation.  St.  Gregory  Nazianzen 
tells  us  that  he  travelled  by  land  and  by  sea  to  aquire 
the  art  of  eloquence,  "  I  do  not  regret,"  he  saj's, 
"  those  pains  and  those  fatigues  which  were  the  cost  at 
which  I  acquired  such  a  precious  talent.  I  desire  to 
possess  it  in  all  its  fulness.  I  have  aljandoned  all  things 
else  for  God,  this  is  the  only  one  of  my  goods  which 
remains  to  me.  I  have  devoted  myself  without  reserve 
to  the  art  of  speaking.  I  have  made  it  my  inheritance, 
and  I  w^ill  never  abandon  it."  "  Most  likely,"  cries 
St.  Augustine,  "  I  should  never  have  been  converted 
if  I  had  not  been  attracted  to  his  instructions  by  the 
eloquence  of  Ambros  ;"  and,  hence,  following  in  the 
footsteps  of  his  great  master  and  model,  St.  Augustine 
devoted  all  the  energies  of  his  profound  intellect  to 
the  study  of  Sacred  Eloquence.  With  this  view  he 
composed  his  great  work — De  Doctrina  Christiana, 
a  work  of  inestimable  value  to  the  Sacred  Orator,  and 


Stylk  of  the   Pulpit.  371 

one  wliose  wise  precepts  mid  sage  counsels  foi-m,  we 
venture  to  hope,  the  very  marrow  and  essence  of  all 
that  is  l)est,  most  sound,  and  most  worthy  of  being 
reduced  to  practice,  in  these  imperfect  pages  of  ours. 
We  take  it,  then,  for  granted,  that  the  preacher  is 
bound  to  cultivate  his  style,  that  he  may  thus  be  able 
to  embellish  the  preaching  of  the  word  with  the  charms 
of  a  true,  a  solid,  and  a  substantial  elegance.  We 
take  it,  too,  for  granted,  that,  in  this  sense  of  the  Avord, 
he  is  bound  to  seek  to  please  his  hearers.  Not  as  we 
have  said,  for  the  sake  of  pleasing,  but,  that,  by  render- 
ing the  doctrine  which  he  preaches  acceptable  to  his 
flock,  he  may  persuade  them  to-  embrace  its  salutary 
precepts.  Whilst  he  remembers  that  he  is  the  adjutor 
Dez,  whose  blessing  can  alone  crown  his  work  with  a 
jfruitful  increase,  he  will  also  remember  that  God 
expects  him  to  employ,  in  their  highest  and  perfect 
manner,  all  human  means  which  are  legitimate,  for  the 
attainment  of  his  end.  He  will  remember,  that  the 
imagination  and  the  passions  have  come  to  man  from 
the  hand  of  God  ;  that  being  the  gifts  of  God,  they 
are  good,  and  are  therefore  to  be  employed  and  directed 
to  His  greater  honour  and  glory  Our  Divine  Lord 
Himself,  in  His  inflnite  condescension,  did  not  disdain 
to  make  use  of  them  as  occasion  oflered.  If  these 
gifts  can  be  abused  they  can  also  be  employed  to  the 
greater  glory  of  Him  who  gave  them.  The  zealous 
preacher  will  ever  labour  thus  to  employ  them.     Em- 


372  Style  of  the   Pulpit. 

ploying  llicni  in  the  cnltivation,  and  for  the  ends  of 
true  and  sohd  eh)qnence,  he  i«  employing  them  legiti- 
mately, and  in  snch  a  manner,  and  with  snch  an  aim, 
as  will  not  fail  to  bi-ing  glory  to  God,  salvation  to  im- 
mortal sonls,  and  to  himself  a  recompense  mcKjiKt 
ni/iu's,  in  the  fulness  of  which  the  remembrance  of  his 
labors  and  his  toils  shall  be  swallowed  up  and  lost  for- 
ever to  his  sight. 

Whilst  we  thus  take  it  for  granted  that  the  preacher 
of  the  Gospel  is  bound  to  use  his  utmost  efforts  to 
become  truly,  solidly,  and  substantially  elo(|uent,  Ave 
also  venture  to  hope  that  in  these  pages  we  have 
sufficiently  demonstrated  the  uatLU'c  and  the  essential 
qualities  of  pulpit  eloquence.  Whilst  there  are  occa- 
sions on  which  the  sacred  orator  may,  and  ought,  to 
aspire,  as  God  may  give  him  power,  to  the  highest 
flights  of  eloquence,  it  will  more  frequently  be  his  duty 
and  his  inclination  to  adapt  himself  to  the  understand- 
ing and  the  capacity  of  the  humble  and  the  ignorant. 
Al)ove  all  things,  the  style  of  the  pulpit  is  popular,  in 
the  best  and  only  true  sense  of  the  w^ord.  It  is  simple 
without  ever  becoming  mean.  Whilst  it  adapts  itself 
to  the  comprehension  of  all,  it  never  descend  to  vul- 
garity, or  loses  sight  of  the  truth  that  simplicity  of 
thought  and  of  expression  is  compatible  Avith  the 
greatest  purity  of  style  and  propriety  of  terms.  It  is 
essentially  clear,  not  merely  Avith  an  absolute,  but  with 
a  relative  clearness,  so  that  the  Avhole  audience  have  no 


Style  of  the   Pulpit.  373 

difficulty  in  coini)iehciKliiig  the  meaning  of  the 
[)ri'achor.  Ever  grave,  ever  aerious,  ilattering  no  one, 
wounding  no  one,  it  clothes  the  truth  with  which  it 
deals  in  a  garment  of  native  dignity,  of  sweet  and  of 
modest  majesty.  Plena  gravitatis  et  j^ondeii.s — it 
never  l)ecomes  heavy.  It  never  tritles,  although  iL 
represents  the  eireunistances  which  it  presents  to  an 
audience  in  such  a  lively  and  sensible  manner  as  to 
l)ring  them  vividly  before  the  mind.  It  is  full  of 
colour — colour  often-tinies  of  the  deepest  hue,  but  ever 
true,  ever  natural  ;  a  colour  which  is  1)orro\ved  from 
the  writings  of  those  divinely  inspired  men  whose 
pencils  were  guided  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  knows 
how  to  modify  its  expressions,  to  change  its  words,  to 
vary  its  comparisons  and  its  arguments,  to  present  the 
truth  which  it  treats  in  ditlcrent  shapes  and  in  dift'erent 
forms,  according  to  time,  place,  and  circumstance.  In 
fine,  the  style  of  the  pulpit  is  warm,  earnest,  and  fervid. 
It  is  at  once  the  witness  and  the  exponent  of  strong 
convictions  and  of  ardent  feelings.  It  is  the  Grande 
dicendi  fenus  of  St.  Augustine — that  grand  style 
which  has  its  foundations,  not  in  mere  words,  but  in 
the  transports  of  the  soul  which  is  profoundly  moved. 
It  is  the  style  whose  effects  are  likened  by  St.  Paul  to 
those  of  a  two-edged  sword  ;  the  style  whose  concep- 
tions and  whose  utterances  are  inspired  by  prayer,  b}' 
the  diligent  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  but,  most 
of  all,  by  that  determined  will  to  attain  his  end  which 


374  Style  or  the   Pulpit. 

the  zealous  priest  of  God  ever  proposes  to  himself,  by 
that  hunger  and  thirst  for  souls  with  wJdch  he  is  ever 
consumed.  In  fine,  it  is  the  style,  the  cultivation  of 
which  is  so  strongly  inculcated,  in  his  Encyclical  letter 
of  1846,  by  our  Holy  Father  Pope  Pius  IX.  whom 
may  God  long  preserve,  and  to  whose  supreme  judg- 
ment this  work  is  humbly  sulmiitted  in  undoubting 
faith  and  with  unwavering  confidence  and  love. 

Ut  qui  gloriatur,  in  illo  glorietur,  in  cnjiis  nianu 
sunt  et  nos  et  sermones  nostri.  Sap.  VII.  We  have 
compiled  this  treatise,  and  we  now  offer  it  to  the  yomig 
preacher  in  the  hope  that  it  may  be  of  some  small 
service  to  him.  in  aiding  him  to  discharge  worthily 
the  high  and  holy  ofiice  of  preaching  the  Gospel  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  lal)our  of  its  preparation 
will  be  more  than  recom})ensed  if,  spite  of  its  imper- 
fections, it  may  help  even  in  tlie  lo^vliest  degree,  to 
promote  the  Greater  Glory  of  God,  and  the  Salvation 
of  Immortal  Souls. 


THE  END. 


j'Wmitpm^ 


^^gam- 


Date  Due 


